


The One with the Stolen Hat

by nerdfightingwhovian



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Adorable Derek Hale, Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - Human, Alternate Universe - No Hale Fire, Alternate Universe-Same Age, And Derek finds it hot, Angst, Angst has barged in, Blow Jobs, Characters Reading Fanfiction, Characters Writing Fanfiction, Charismatic Stiles, Confident Nerdy Stiles, Confident Stiles, Crack, Derek Hale & Isaac Lahey Bromance, Don't Judge Me, Eventual Smut, Everyone Is Alive, Everyone is fine, Except Claudia Stilinski, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Smut, Friends to Lovers, Hand Jobs, Hats are stolen, Lydia is Perfect, M/M, Mostly Fluff, Multi, Nerdy Derek, Oblivious Derek, Oblivious Scott, Oblivious Stiles, Pining Derek, Pining Stiles, Popular Stiles, Puppy Scott, Same Age, Sexy Times, Shower Sex, Shy Derek, Slow Build, Slow Build Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski, Smut, Sorry Stiles, Stiles is always adorable, Stiles owns his nerdiness, Stiles stole Derek's hat, The Hale family is just a family of shippers, They ship it so hard, WIP, and shit goes down, because everyone sees it, because he is a puppy, but it's not bad, but not an actual puppy, but some angst might barge in, even tumblr, everyone ships it, except Scott, maybe there is a Hale Fire, multi-chaptered, now everyone ships it, okay, so is laura
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-04-18
Updated: 2014-10-14
Packaged: 2018-01-19 21:37:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 14
Words: 50,964
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1484980
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nerdfightingwhovian/pseuds/nerdfightingwhovian
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In high school, Stiles stole Derek's hat and everyone who hears the story of Stiles stealing Derek's favorite (and only) hat begins to ship it. Luckily, Stiles never found out about the ridiculous number of people who ship it. Except, one day he does and he confronts Derek about it. </p><p>That is where the story begins, the cat is out of the bag and Stiles, the curious person he is, wants to know how it started. So now, Derek has to tell him. </p><p>Except, what starts out as Derek and Stiles laughing over ridiculous stories about stolen hats and glittery campaign cards becomes something more.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> Like most of my Teen Wolf fics, this is un-beta'd. This fic is a WIP, and I suck at updating on a regular basis. 
> 
> Also, the double asterisk (**) indicates a jump in time. Usually a flashback, and it is usually signalled by one of the characters saying something.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Stiles accidentally stole Derek's hat in high school and has still not given it back and Derek complains about it. Then, despite Derek telling everyone to stop, they ship it. Spoiler Alert: They don't stop, and Stiles finds the FanFiction in college.
> 
> And he's confused. Really confused.
> 
> “So,” Stiles says, bouncing onto his toes, “your family and friends, they uh, ship us?”
> 
> Derek flushes, ever so slightly and stares at his toes, refusing to meet Stiles’ eyes, “Well, um, er, yes? Technically. Like, not seriously or anything. Just, uh, only slightly.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Every time you comment/kudo Canon!Derek Hale smiles. And Stiles gets another mole.

“So,” Stiles said, bouncing onto his toes, “your family and friends, they uh, ship us?”

Derek flushed, ever so slightly and stared at his toes, refusing to meet Stiles’ eyes, “Well, um, er, yes? Technically. Like, not seriously or anything. Just, uh, only slightly.”

“Derek, there is fan fiction about us. There are shipping blogs on Tumblr. There are dedicated URLs to us. Derek, this has progressed far past slightly.” Stiles’ arms flew through the air. “We’ve become a fucking fandom! And we’re not even famous! Like it would be different if we were actually internet famous or were at least _somebodies_ on the internet, but NO!” Stiles held up his hands as if practicing MC Hammer’s dance. “Seriously, Derek. How did people even start shipping us?! Like, my Tumblr has only like a hundred followers. Like I’m the exact opposite of internet famous!” Stiles folded his arms and glared at Derek.

“Why do you look at me like it’s _my_ fault?”

“Because it was your friends who started this!”

“No. They didn’t.”

“Yeah, they did.”

“Technically Stiles, you started it.”

“How in the _hell_ did _I_ start this ridiculousness. Please, explain your logic, Derek.”

“You stole my hat.”

“I stole what?”

“My hat.”

“Which hat.”

“My _only_ hat.”

“When did I do that.”

“Like, senior year.”

“Dude, this has been going on way too long for it to have taken place this year.”

“No, idiot. In high school. During the camping trip.” Derek narrowed his eyebrows, “Don’t call me dude.”

“Dude, I can call you whatever I want. There is explicit BDSM porn written about me on the internet. And do you know how I found out? My father. _My father_ , Derek. He asked me if I was being safe, Derek. _If I was being safe_. He wanted to make sure I knew that I could safe word at any time. _Safe word_ , Derek. My dad thinks I want to lick your eyebrows. Your eyebrows, Derek.”

“And do you know how your father found out about the porn? My mother, Stiles. _My mother_. She birthed me and wanted to make sure that you were okay with my biting kink. _My biting kink_ , Stiles. Oh, and did I mention that she found out because my uncle was proud of his work and wanted to show her? My _uncle_ wrote BDSM porn about me, Stiles. _My uncle who is also my godfather_.”

Stiles winced, “How awkward are your family dinners?”

“You don’t even know, Stiles. You don’t even know.”

They paused and after a couple of minutes, Stiles looked at Derek out of the corner of his and said, “So, all my fault, huh? You might as well tell me the story.”

“The story of how you ruined my life and turned me into one half of the most awkward RPF OTP pairings on Tumblr?”

“Yes, asshole. That story.”

“Well, it all started in the eighth grade when you ran for student council.”

“You voted for me?”

Derek blushed. “Shut up, Stiles. Let me tell you the story.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you wish to find me on Tumblr [here](http://a-love-story-across-fandoms.tumblr.com) I am.


	2. It All Started When (I Voted 4 Stiles) a.k.a. Eighth Grade was an Awkward Year

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Derek starts the story of how he became one half of the most popular RPF OTPs on Tumblr, and Stiles, well he interrupts things a little bit.
> 
> “Stiles, if you’re going to be an unreliable narrator, then I’ll just leave.” Derek moved to get up off the bench, but Stiles grabbed him by the leather jacket. Which, Stiles thought, was totally not hot. Not at all.
> 
> “Wait, don’t go! I promise I’ll be a reliable narrator!” 
> 
> “Are you sure?”
> 
> “Yeah I’m sure.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kudos and comments fill the crushing hole that I have had in my chest since Teen Wolf ended for the season. 
> 
> They also make my fingers fly faster across the keyboard.

Derek was standing in front of his English class, waiting for the exact moment when he could walk in and be considered early enough but not too early. It was a fine balance, one he had perfected earlier in the year.  He approximated that he had about two minutes more before the warning bell would go off and signal that students had two minutes to get to class. As he stood in front of the classroom he pulled out the reading from the previous night’s homework and began to review. This too, was a perfected strategy to look cool, but still stay current with his work. He looked like he was doing his homework at the last minute, but he was preparing for class. It was a win-win. 

Derek checked his watch, with a round silver face, beautiful in its simplicity with black leather band because it was a family heirloom and the Hale family had a not so secret love affair with black leather. He had a minute before the warning bell went off, but the previous night's chapter had been neither long nor complicated, thus his review session against the wall was unnecessary. He sighed, he hated it when things went awry. Just as he was about to head into class, a hand tapped him on the shoulder and a floppy haired adolescent with a seriously crooked jaw held out a small card attached with an elastic band. On one side, in green Sharpie were the words, ‘I promise, it’ll be worthwhile’ and on the other, written with green and blue glitter pen were the words, ‘Vote 4 Stiles.’

“What’s this.” Derek asked.

“Vote for Stiles!”

“What the hell is a ‘stile’?”

The obnoxious puppy with the weird jaw turned around and pointed at a hyperactive pile of gangly limbs with a buzzed head, “That’s a Stiles!” Then he jammed the card of glitter between the pages of Derek’s book. “Vote for him!” Then he turned and made his way back to the large group of people, handing out cards to various peers as he went.

Derek turned and began to walk inside the door to his English class. He paused at the trash can positioned just so to the right of the door. He stood there, the glitter card in one hand, prepared to crumple it up and throw it in the trash can. He had to keep up his image, and a glitter campaign card did not keep up his image. He extended his hand over the trash can, and glanced casually out the window positioned just so next to the teacher's desk that looked out into the hallway. From his position at the trash can, Derek could see the Stiles, head thrown back in a wild guffaw of laughter. His long pale neck with its sprinkled line of moles was on display. His light brown eyes twinkled in mischief and delight, and Derek's lips twitched up into a smile.   _M_ _aybe,_ he thought, _I won’t throw this away._ He brought his hand back toward his torso and tucked the campaign card into his book. Then, he turned and sat at his desk, ready for class to start. 

**

“Oh my God, Derek.” Stiles' eyes were wide, and his hands were flailing as if he was trying to flag down a taxi.

“What.”

“I kinda remember that.”

“Seriously?” Derek's eyebrows climbed his forehead, and his mouth folded into a smirk.

“Yeah! I was totally trying to hit on Lydia and she totally ignored me so I decided to laugh through the pain.” Stiles clutched at his heart with one hand and with the other flapped at his face as if he was a Shakespearian heroine trying to ward off a fainting spell. 

“Oh.” Derek's eyebrows fell again, and his mouth rearranged itself to form a slight frown.

“Dude, I can’t believe you remembered all of that.” Now his arms were spinning and whirling like little windmills. 

“Yeah. I just have a really good memory for this I guess.” Derek refused to believe that he was flushing, but he could feel the tips of his ears heat up slightly. 

“Like the color of the glitter and everything. God, I barely remember anything from eighth grade.” Stiles began to run his hands through his longer hair. The brown strands stuck up and it made Derek want to reach over and smooth them down, then mess them up all over again. 

“Yeah, it was a crazy time for everyone.”

“I mean, I totally forgot we even went to middle school together. But then again, I was pretty oblivious to anyone who wasn’t Lydia, Scott, Jackson, and Danny.”

“I get it.” If anything, Derek's frown pressed deeper into his face.

“Like, I totally didn’t even remember Erica!” 

“She didn’t show up in Beacon Hills until high school.”

“Is that why she never liked me?”

“No, she liked you. There were other reasons for the, uh, carburetor incident.”

“Like what?!?!” Stiles' arms shot out from his body and Derek had the passing thought that if this was a comic the movement would have been punctuated by some sort of onomatopoeia.

“You’d have to ask her.”

“Oh believe me, I will.” Stiles began fumbling through his backpack and pockets searching for his phone. “Hold on, if I could just find my phone.” He patted his pockets, both on his hoodie and his jeans, and frantically spun around, “Shit. I think I lost my phone. Hold on. Hold on. Hold one. Gimme a sec. Shit shit shit shit sh—”

“ _Stiles._ Your phone is in your hand. And she’s in class, she won’t be able to answer you.” Stiles looked down at his hand, saw his phone and instantly flushed. “Now, if I could continue?”

“No.”

“What.”

“No. I get to go next. I can tell you what I remember of that day.”

“Why do I feel like this is going to end badly?”

“It won’t.” Stiles slung an arm around Derek's shoulder.

“Stiles—” Derek squirmed, but only slightly. 

“Come on, Derek. It’ll be fun. Like How I Met Your Mother, only with a better ending.” Stiles opted to take his arm off of Derek's shoulder and instead poke it with a singular long index finger. 

“How is it gonna end?”

“How I Met Your Mother or our story?”

“Our story genius. I refuse to believe that that ending of How I Met Your Mother was real.”

“Dude, I totally know what you mean. Well, you’ll just have to listen to all of my story, won’t you, Sourwolf.”

“No. You can’t call me that.”

“Why not?”

“Because, Erica wrote a fic, and you just don’t want to know.”

“Oh come on. You can’t just leave me hanging. Tell me. Just a little bit.”

“Fine. But you asked for it. One word: knotting.”

“Oh my god."

“I know.”

“But—"

“I know, Stiles.”

“That isn’t even possible for humans.”

“I know, Stiles. I wasn’t human.” Derek rubbed a hand over his face. Now he was definitely blushing. Of course, that wasn't anything special, no amount of self confidence could keep a person from blushing furiously while having a serious discussion about knotting with Stiles Stilinski. 

“What were you?”

“A werewolf.” Derek had his hands clasped around his mouth in a futile attempt to keep Stiles from hearing what exactly he had been in the fic, but Stiles heard anyway.

“Thus, Sourwolf.”

Derek rolled his eyes, “Yes, Stiles. Thus Sourwolf.” 

Stiles turned and motioned to a nearby bench, “Shall we sit for story time, Derek?”

Derek met Stiles’ eyes, “As you wish.” Surprisingly, Stiles did not notice the reference, and Derek was somewhat disappointed in him. Unsurprisingly, Stiles did not notice the reference because he had already started to tell his side of the story. 

“You see, Derek. I was just minding my own business when Lydia bet Jackson that anyone could win if she was their campaign manager. So they chose the least popular person they could find, and….”

“and you ran for Student Council.”

“Basically.”

“Great. That’s the story. Can we move on now?” Derek clapped his hands together, he didn't need to know that Stiles hadn't noticed him in the eighth grade. He already knew it.

“No, Derek." Stiles slapped Derek on the shoulder, as if he was swatting a bad puppy with a rolled up newspaper or magazine. "You got your little nostalgic, ‘gotta be the cool guy’ flashback. I get my own.”

**

“I could beat anyone. Even though I’m the biggest douche with daddy issues to walk the earth, I’m the most popular person in the entire school.”

“Jackson, it isn’t always about popularity.” Lydia said. Perfect, wonderfully beautiful if slightly scary, Lydia.

“What are you talking about Lydia? Of course it’s about popularity. Even if I make hammers look like they should be accepted to Harvard without even pausing to take the SAT, I know that popularity is everything. Just like my cheekbones. See?” Jackson paused and sucked in his cheeks, “My blue steel is better than anything you’ve ever seen.”

“Anyone can win if they have the right campaign manager.” She flipped her hair, and someone, somewhere in the vastness of the universe and all possible universes fell in love with her.

“And who would be the right campaign manager, Lydia? I know for a fact that it wouldn’t be you because I totally don’t deserve you in any way, shape, or form. In fact, I think you should go date that lanky kid named Stiles for all eternity.” 

“Me.” She was a goddess, spreading light and cheer to all those who needed it. 

Jackson began laughing, “You? Don’t be ridiculous. I could win against anyone you pit against me. Actually, I can’t. I just said that because my dick is minuscule and I’m trying to make up for the fact that I am both jealous of Danny’s massive Hawaiian dick and for the fact that I’m going through some sexual identity stuff because I definitely spend too long thinking about Danny’s dick.”

“We’ll see who is laughing when you don’t win, Jackson.” With that, the wonderful beautiful goddess who had manifested herself in the body of Lydia Martin turned on a righteous, sultry heel and strutted away, her magnificent hips swaying in time to the click of designer shoes.

Thus, Lydia began looking for the most socially awkward, socially inept person she could find. Pity she hadn’t stumbled onto Derek, really. After what felt like years of searching, but was, in reality, only about a week, she had found the not so perfect candidate. He was a little on the lanky side, but still ruggedly handsome. He was gregarious and popular with everyone with whom he came into contact. People gushed about his beautiful brown eyes, and his pale skin that flushed ever so beautifully under the right circumstances.

**

“Stiles, if you’re going to be an unreliable narrator, then I’ll just leave.” Derek moved to get up off the bench, but Stiles grabbed him by the leather jacket. Which, Stiles thought, was totally not hot. Not at all.

“Wait, don’t go! I promise I’ll be a reliable narrator!” 

“Are you sure?” Derek raised and eyebrow and scowled with his entire being. 

“Yeah I’m sure.”

“Because if you keep making making Jackson say things that he would never in a million years say, and keep referring to Lydia as a goddess, I may just have to rip your throat out. With my teeth.” Derek smiled and leaned in, “And we wouldn’t want that, would we?”

“Nope. Definitely not. I like my throat right where it is. Which is attached to my neck. And not in your teeth.” Stiles bit his lip and forced himself to stop talking. “So, where was I?”

“Lydia had just found the perfect combination of endearing social awkwardness and ineptitude.”

“Ah, yes. Now I remember.”

**

Lydia looked at Stiles, starting from the bottom and going up. “I’ve never seen you around before.”

“Lydia, we’ve been in the same classes since the third grade.”

“Perfect!” She clapped her hands together and rubbed them slightly, “Invisible enough to be unpopular but endearing.” She grabbed Stiles by the hand, “Come with me. We have a slogan, posters, a platform, and speeches to prepare. Also, a new wardrobe.”

“Uh, Lydia, what’s wrong with my wardrobe as is?”

“Those layers were out like a decade ago.”

“What? The layered look is a classic.”

“Maybe for the Pacific Northwest, but not California.”

A week later saw Scott helping Stiles to hand out cards with attached elastic strings with various slogans on them. It also saw Stiles wearing new clothing. His pants had been hand-picked by Lydia for being not too tight, but not too loose. In Stiles’s language, the pants neither sagged nor did they squeeze his dick. According to Lydia, his dark blue v-neck brought out his eyes and skin tone at once. To Stiles, the shirt was comfortable and sort of soft. At one point Scott scampered off to talk to a somewhat kid with broad shoulders and cheekbones that would rival Jackson’s once he got older. He was leaning against a wall, reading what Stiles would guess was  To Kill a Mockingbird,  but he could be getting his eighth grade literature mixed up. Within the minute, Scott returned to Stiles’s side and muttered something about people who had probably been a serial killer in a previous life. 

Stiles looked at Lydia and said “Based on my calculations, you were a goddess in a past life. Oh wait, I did my math wrong, it’s in _this_ life that you’re a goddess.”

Lydia rolled her eyes, “That was cheesy in all my past, present, and future lives.” Stiles threw his head back and laughed, because, yeah that hadn’t been his best pick-up line.

Then, the warning bell to get to class rang and Stiles and Scott hurried into their history class as Lydia sauntered off to her math class.

Two and a half weeks later, when Stiles had won, Jackson threw a bit of a fit. Lydia looked at the final tallies for the race, and sighed as she did the math, “Awkward. He got twice as many votes as you.”

Stiles looked up and said, “It’s not that surprising. He is a massive asshole.” Scott nodded emphatically next to him and Lydia covered up her snicker with a prim hand in front of her mouth. Jackson, meanwhile, fumed and turned a particularly interesting shade of red. Thus began Stiles’s steady, but slow ascent to a very strange, very unexpected branch of popularity. Or at least, notability. 

**

“Did you really try to use that line to pick-up Lydia?” Derek smirked. 

“Hey! I thought it was charming.” Stiles slapped Derek in the shoulder again, and Derek could not decide if it was a good or bad thing that Stiles was getting so comfortable hitting him.

“Technically, yes it was. Slightly. Actually, it was more endearing than charming. The problem is that there were too many clever comebacks she could have said in response. Thus, she couldn’t respond positively because there were too many options to show her superior intelligence over you.”

“Well I know that _now._ Just not in the 8th grade.”

“Makes sense.” They paused for a couple seconds, still on the benches, right outside the administration building of their college, where they had been for the past two and a half hours. 

“Hey,” Stiles said rubbing his hands rapidly up and down his thighs, “did you want to go get some coffee from the on-campus cafe. I mean, since you have yet to tell me how this is all my fault.”

Derek sighs and rolls his eyes. “All right. But no interruptions for this next part.”

Together, they stood up and began walking to the cafe. Derek opened his mouth to begin telling his story, then Stiles stopped him. “You can tell your story when we have sat down with our coffees.”

Derek raised one eyebrow, “What are we going to talk about until we get our coffee?” 

“Wow. We could literally talk about anything.” Stiles rubbed a hand through his hair and sighed at how long it was. “I didn’t know that talking to me was such a hardship.”

“I didn’t mean it like that.” Derek stopped and turned to look at Stiles. “I’m just not a great conversationalist.”

Stiles’ eyes softened, “You don’t have to be a great conversationalist. Are you a good listener?”

Derek cocked his head to the side and thought about it seriously for a second, “My little sister talked at me for three hours yesterday about this guy in her AP English class.”

Stiles’ eyes widened, “Oh my God. You are the cutest big brother, ever.”

“Does that mean I’m a good listener?”

Stiles threw his arm over Derek’s shoulder and continued to walk toward the cafe, “Dude, that means that you are the _best_ listener.” Then he began to talk. “Did you know that the term ‘cliffhanger’ comes from Charles Dickens? At the end of one of his serialized chapters of  The PickWick Papers  he left his main character hanging from a cliff by his nails.” Derek grunted. “Ahh the things one learns while searching Wikipedia.” 

They drew closer to the cafe and Stiles continued to talk, “Also, the Wikipedia article on neckties is one of the most fascinating articles on Wikipedia. Personally, it comes right after the one on male circumcision.”

“Why, exactly, is the history of the male circumcision so interesting, Stiles?”

“I’m glad you asked Derek.” Stiles then proceeded to detail the history of the male circumcision. And he did not stop talking about the male circumcision until the slightly disturbed barista at the cafe asked whether or not he wanted whipped cream on his mocha—to which Stiles obviously said yes because “Whipped cream, Derek!”

Because it was actually sunny for the first time in a few days, both Stiles and Derek elected to sit outside and enjoy what bit of the sun they could. Derek sipped his black coffee slowly and waited calmly for Stiles to give him the stage. Stiles was in the middle of a particularly long sentence when he suddenly cut himself off. “Dude, you were supposed to tell me the next part in our little saga once we got our coffee.”

Derek smirked down at his coffee, “You just seemed like you really enjoyed telling me about circumcision.”

Stiles groaned and threw his head back, “Dude! You can totally tell me to shut up whenever.”

Derek grinned, “Good to know.” Stiles gestured for Derek to continue with the story. “Everything was pretty normal until the summer after Sophomore year in high school.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you wish to find me on Tumblr [here](http://a-love-story-across-fandoms.tumblr.com) I am.
> 
> HAHAHAHA what happens next? I update every Wednesday so you will find out next week. But, one thing I can give away? Stiles. Sings.  
> Also, more characters are introduced.  
> Oh tantalizing.  
> Should I give you a little teaser? I think I shall. 
> 
> “Nononononononono!” Stiles thumped his forehead onto the metal table in front of him.
> 
> “What?” Derek asked, chuckling lightly. He folded his hands and propped his chin on them and looked at Stiles knowingly. 
> 
> “Don’t tell me you saw that video.”
> 
> “Okay. I won’t.” Derek smiled even wider at Stiles.


	3. Cue the Adorable Texting a.k.a. Shirtless Derek Melts Brains and Doesn't Understand Why

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Derek gets stalked by little freshman residents while he is shirtless. Also, Laura appears carrying some plot. 
> 
> "Derek was putting on his deodorant when there was a knock at his door. Shirt in hand, he went to open it. There was Jennifer with one of her friends. Derek couldn’t remember her name, Carrie, or Kelly or something like that. 
> 
> When they didn’t say anything, he raised an eyebrow and said, 'Did you need something?'
> 
> 'Uhhhm….' They both just stared. 
> 
> Derek looked down at the shirt in his hand and threw it on, and pulled it down over his hips. Then he crossed his arms in front of his chest. 'Was there something I could do for you?'"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Currently un-beta'd. I do, however, have a potential beta coming up. So, three cheers for that! 
> 
> Kudos, comments, and bookmarks convince me to add more shirtless Derek scenes.

Derek was in his room listening to what his sisters called ‘weird, artsy, noisy, girl punk’—Derek called it bluesy punk—when Cora came bounding up the stairs shrieking his name. In the time it took him to put down  The Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy and turn off his music, Cora was pounding on his door. 

“Ohmygod DEREK!”Derek pulled his door open so quickly that she stumbled inside. “You _have_ to see this.”

“Cora!” Derek tried to catch his little sister by her arm, but she dodged him. “Stay out of my room!”

“You opened the door! Plus you have to see what popped up on my newsfeed!”

Derek rolled his eyes and wondered why a soon-to-be-eighth grader needed a Facebook, “Social media isn’t everything Cora.” 

“You won’t be saying that when I show you this video, Der-Der.”

“Don’t call me that!”

**

“Wait, wait, wait.” Stiles stopped Derek.

“What, Stiles?”

“Your sister calls you Der-Der?”

“Yes, Stiles, my _little_ sister has an embarrassing nickname for me. So does my big sister.”

“I’m sorry, I just can’t picture you willingly being called ‘Der-Der.’”

“I wouldn’t exactly call it willing.”

“So what does Laura call you?”

“No.”

“That’s a weird nickname.” Stiles winked, and dammit, wasn’t it charming?

“I’m not telling you what Laura calls me.”

“Hold on, let me text Boyd. He’ll tell me.” Stiles pulled out his phone and waggled it in front of Derek’s face.

“Fine. Let me text Lydia and see what your real name is.” Derek leaned back and slid his phone from his pocket. 

Stiles’ eyes widened, “You know, maybe me just knowing Der-Der is enough for right now.”

Derek smirked, “That’s what I thought.”

“Shut up, asshole.”

“Can I get back to the story now?” Stiles held his arms out, palms up and gestured for Derek to continue. “Thanks. And I thought we said no interruptions.”

“Ah, but that one was necessary.”

Derek rolled his eyes but let a small smile run across his face. “Now where was I? Ah, yes. Now I remember.”

**

“Don’t call me that!” Derek stalked over to his sister and gripped her arm. “Get out.” 

“Ow! LAURA! DEREK IS HURTING ME!” 

Laura appeared at the door. “Come on, Derek. Let the kid show you the video.”

Derek sighed and ran his hands through his hair, until bring it down over his face. “Fine. Show me the damn video.”

Cora smiled and despite himself, Derek couldn’t help but feel just a little bad about how he’d treated his little sister. She grabbed his hand and pulled him over to his laptop sitting on his desk. 

Laura came over and joined them, “I wanna see this video too.”

Cora pulled open the web browser and went to the Facebook sign in page, then signed onto her own Facebook. She scrolled down until she came upon a video embedded in the page. “Ah! Here it is.”

Cora hit the play button, then the fullscreen option. On the screen, a purple ukulele appeared, clutched by a long fingered hand. A voice came over the speakers, “Scott! I was kidding when I said I would sing!”

A voice behind the camera responded, “Too late, buddy. You said you would.”

“But—”

“Here let me quote you, ‘If Danny ever says I’m attractive to gay guys, I will make a video of me singing any Taylor Swift song of your choice.’” Suddenly, Stiles’s pale neck was shoved into the camera, and Derek saw a flash of a little purple bruise. “And, I think this _hickey_ proves that yes, Danny thinks you are attractive to gay guys.”

The part of Stiles’s neck that was on display flushed, “You are the worst best friend ever.”

“Ah, but I’m not your best friend. I’m your brother.”

Stiles beamed at the camera, “All right internet. Just for that, you get this video.”

**

“Nononononononono!” Stiles thumped his forehead onto the metal table in front of him.

“What?” Derek asked, chuckling lightly. He folded his hands and propped his chin on them and looked at Stiles knowingly. 

“Don’t tell me you saw that video.”

“Okay. I won’t.” Derek smiled even wider at Stiles. 

“You are a horrible bastard.” 

“I actually think I’m pretty fucking hilarious.” Stiles glared at Derek’s very pleased smile.

“Okay. That’s the end of the story.” 

“Nope. Now stop interrupting me.” Stiles groaned and slammed his forehead against the table again. 

**

On the screen, Stiles settled himself in front of the camera and brought the purple ukulele up to rest on his lap. “I actually play the guitar better than the ukulele, but my guitar is out of commission right now, so, ukulele. Actually, I play the drums better than I play both the guitar and the ukulele, but trying to sing Taylor Swift while you play the drums is actually impossible. Believe me, I’ve tried.” He positioned his fingers, “All right, here we go.”

His hands and fingers moved along the ukulele, and then he started singing. “There’s somethin’ ‘bout the way the street looks when it’s just rained…” 

Derek smiled at the video, because Stiles looked embarrassed and nervous, but at the same time he glared at Scott who was laughing quietly behind the camera. Stiles’s face was flushing as he continued singing the song. A couple of times Stiles’s voice broke, and it was adorable and endearing because every time it did he flushed even harder and stuck his tongue out at the camera. Derek, Cora, and Laura watched the entire video, and even stayed for the end when Stiles flipped off Scott behind the camera and said, “Are you happy now, dickwad?”

They heard Scott’s answering laugh, “Overjoyed.”

Stiles smiled, and shook his head then reached over the camera, then the screen went black. 

Cora turned around and looked at Derek, “He’s really good, right?”

Laura shrugged, “He would be better if he wasn’t singing Taylor Swift. Maybe an acoustic of The Offspring.”

Cora smirked at Derek, “So, Derek. Is Danny right?”

“About what?”

“Is Stiles attractive to gay guys?”

Derek laughed and ran his hands through his sister’s hair, “I don’t know, kid.” He pointed to his chest, “Bi, not gay.” 

Cora huffed. “Fine, is he attractive to bi guys?”

“Are you trying to ask if I like Stiles?”

“Duh.”

“Well squirt,—”

**

Stiles’s phone rang and he swore. “God fucking dammit! Son of a bitch.” He hit ignore and turned to Derek, “Continue."

Derek nodded to the phone, “Take it. It’s fine.”

“Derek—" 

“Answer your phone, Stiles.”

“Ugh fine. You are the worst story teller ever.” He glanced at his phone. “SHIT!”

“What?”

“I have class across campus in like five minutes! I totally lost track of time.” Stiles jumped out of his chair and threw his backpack over his shoulder. “I really have to go! My class is in Smith Hall and my professor is an attendance Nazi.” He began to run away, then he doubled back. “Here, call me, text me, we’ll do this again. Coffee and story time. Next time is my turn.” Stiles pulled out a pen, gripped the cap with his teeth and pulled. He grabbed Derek’s arm and messily scrawled his number across Derek’s forearm. “There. Now you won’t forget.”

Derek smiled and watched Stiles run to his class, dodging people as he went. Derek chuckled and entered the number into his phone, naming it ‘Hat Thief.’ Then, he got up and threw away both his and Stiles’s to go coffee cups. 

He waved at the barista, a nice girl in his lit class, slid his hands into his pockets, and made his way back to his dorm building. On his way to his room, he ran into some of his residents. One was a girl who knocked on his door during his open door hours without fail. 

“Oh! Derek!”

Derek grimaced and turned, “Uh, hello Jennifer.”

“I was just wondering, your open door hours are tonight, right?” She bounced up on her toes and bit her lip.

“Yeah.”

“Cool.” Jennifer stood there awkwardly, chewing on her lip even more. “Oh!” she gestured to the people behind her, “These are my friends! Duke, Kali, Ennis, Ethan, and Aiden.”she gestured to Derek, “Guys, this is my R.A.” 

Derek raised his hand in the air and gave them a single wave. Then he pointed at Ethan, “You’re dating Danny, right?”

“Uh, yeah. I guess you could say I’m dating Danny.”

“Considering he was telling me about his boyfriend named Ethan the other day, I’d say you’re dating. And exclusive.” Derek’s eyes narrowed and he crossed his arms over his chest. Derek would have threatened the other guy if he had thought that it would do any good, or that it would be helpful in any way, but Derek also knew that while Jackson was the biggest dick on this side of reality, he would crush anyone who damaged Danny’s heart in any way. Ethan gulped and nodded his head slightly in a way that suggested that he had received Derek’s message.

After an awkward pause in the conversation, Jennifer drew Derek’s gaze by speaking again, “Duke is a senior, like you. Kali is a first-year like me. Ennis is a sophomore; the twins are juniors.” 

Derek rocked back onto his heels, “Awesome.” he rubbed the back of his neck, “Well, I gotta go.” Then he stepped around the pack of people who had blocked off the stairwell.

“Bye Derek!” called Jennifer, “See you tonight.”

“Awesome.” muttered Derek. “My stalker first-year is back.”

On his way, he pulled out his phone and typed out a text to Stiles. 

 

_ To: Hat Thief _

I think one of my residents has a crush on me.

 

_ From: Hat Thief _

Do you blame him/her?

 

_ To: Hat Thief _

I guess not, but it’s against the rules. Plus the age difference is weird.

 

_ From: Hat Thief _

Why do you think he/she has a crush on you?

 

_ To: Hat Thief _

Well, she comes to all of my open door hours and constantly traps me in the stairwell.

 

_ From: Hat Thief _

Dude, she is totally stalking you.

 

_ To: Hat Thief _

Tell me something I don’t know. Also, don’t call me dude.

 

_ From: Hat Thief _

My professor is giving me a horrible glare. GTG. 

Dude.

 

_ To: Hat Thief _

Motherfucker.

Derek put down his phone, he should really try to refrain from getting Stiles into trouble, but he couldn’t resist. He smirked and pulled out his Brit Lit homework, determined to get through the next part of “The Canterbury Tales.” An hour later Derek’s text alert went off.

_ From: Hat Thief _

I am not a motherfucker.

 

_ To: Hat Thief _

No. Just a hat thief. :)

 

_ From: Hat Thief _

Holy shit! Did you just use an emoticon?

 

_ To: Hat Thief _

Yes, Stiles. I am a very hip person.

 

_ From: Hat Thief _

Obviously *Read it in your best Snape voice*

 

_ To: Hat Thief _

How do you know if I used my Snape voice?

 

_ From: Hat Thief _

I know all. Also, did you want to get dinner at the cafeteria? I could finish up our story time.

 

_ To: Hat Thief _

As long as we are back for my open door hours starting at 6:45PM

 

_ From: Hat Thief _

What? So you can be stalked by your first-year? Dude, no problem. We can even study, or continue story time in your room. 

 

_ From: Hat Thief _

HOLY SHIT! I did not mean for that to come out suggestive or anything. 

 

_ From: Hat Thief _

That was not a come on.

 

_ From: Hat Thief _

At all.

 

_ From: Hat Thief _

Okay.

 

_ To: Hat Thief _

I’ll meet you there at like 5:30?

 

_ From: Hat Thief _

Dude, sounds good. 

Derek checked the time, 3:50. He had time to take a quick shower and finish his homework. He settled down to finish “The Wife of Bath.” At 4:30, Derek jumped up to take his shower. Before he left the shower room, he threw on a pair of boxer briefs and tossed his towel around his hips. Then, of fucking course he ran into Jennifer in the hallway. She was in front of her door, and as luck would have it, her door was right across from his. 

“H-h-h-h-hey Derek.” Jennifer stammered. Her keys fell out of her hand and hit the ground with a clatter. 

Derek shifted on feet. “Hi Jennifer.” He clutched his towel tighter around his hips. “Well, I’m just gonna go get changed.”

Jennifer wasn’t listening to him, she was just staring at his abs. He turned and he heard her gasp. He spun around. “You have a tattoo.”

Derek raised an eyebrow, “Have a good day Jennifer.”

As he opened and closed his door, he heard her squeak, “You too, Derek.”

Derek pulled on a pair of dark jeans, and let them settle at his hips. He grabbed his phone and typed out a text to Stiles.

_ To: Hat Thief _

Just had a sufficiently awkward run in with Jennifer in the hallway.

 

_ From: Hat Thief _

Who?

 

_ To: Hat Thief _

First-year stalker.

 

_ From: Hat Thief _

Oooooohhhh! What happened?

 

_ To: Hat Thief _

I was just out of the shower, and she was at her door which is right across from mine. She wouldn’t stop staring at my abs. :(

 

_ From: Hat Thief _

……. You were in your towel?

 

_ To: Hat Thief _

She even dropped her keys. And yeah, towel. 

 

_ From: Hat Thief _

Your abs must be very worthy of her attention.

 

_ To: Hat Thief _

*groan* I hateyou.

 

_ From: Hat Thief _

It’s because I stole your hat, isn’t it?

 

_ To: Hat Thief _

No, it’s because you’re an asshole. 

When Stiles didn’t respond Derek tossed his phone to the bed and went to pull a shirt from his closet. Derek was putting on his deodorant when there was a knock at his door. Shirt in hand, he went to open his door. There was Jennifer with one of her friends. Derek couldn’t remember her name, Carrie, or Kelly or something like that. 

When they didn’t say anything, he raised an eyebrow and said, “Did you need something?”

“Uhhhm….” They both just stared. 

Derek looked down at the shirt in his hand and threw it on, and pulled it down over his hips. Then he crossed his arms in front of his chest. “Was there something I could do for you?”

“Your open door hours are tonight, right?”

Derek grunted and nodded. “Great Derek. Thanks.” Then they turned and ran into Jennifer’s room. 

Derek closed the door. “That was weird.” Derek was running a hand through his hair when his phone went off behind him. He spun around and grabbed it off the bed. He sighed when he saw that it wasn’t Stiles. 

_ From: Laura Means Evil _

Hey, Der-Bear, I’m in the area, thought I’d stop by for dinner?

 

_ To: Laura Means Evil _

Sorry, I’ve made plans.

 

_ From: Laura Means Evil _

Cancel them.

 

_ To: Laura Means Evil _

No.

 

_ From: Laura Means Evil _

I have something really important to tell you.

 

_ To: Laura Means Evil _

Can’t it wait?

 

_ From: Laura Means Evil _

With whom are your plans, Derek?

 

_ To: Laura Means Evil _

What’s with the correct grammar?

 

_ From: Laura Means Evil _

Srry. Ill wrk on that rn.

I’m sorry. I thought I could send it like that, but I can’t.

Don’t dodge my question.

 

_ To: Laura Means Evil _

With a guy.

 

_From: Laura Means Evil_

Like a date?

 

_ To: Laura Means Evil _

No. As friends.

 

_ From: Laura Means Evil _

With whom are your plans Derek?

 

_ To: Laura Means Evil _

If I tell you, will I still have to cancel my plans?

 

_ From: Laura Means Evil _

Yes.

 

_ To: Laura Means Evil _

Fine. I’ll tell him I can’t make it.

 

Derek growled and opened a text to Stiles.

_ To: Hat Thief _

Hey, I don’t think I can make it tonight. Something came up.

 

_ From: Hat Thief _

Oh, no problem. It’s all right. I have tons of work to do anyway. 

 

_ To: Hat Thief _

Sorry. 

 

Derek didn’t get a response from Stiles. 

_ From: Laura Means Evil _

Hey, I’m outside. D’you want to drive, or should I?

Derek frowned, she always drove when she came to visit. 

_ To: Laura Means Evil _

I’ll come outside. Be right there. 

 

Derek scribbled a quick note on the whiteboard on the outside of his door that his open door hours might be canceled, and to watch for an email about it. He grabbed his keys and jogged down the parking lot. Laura was leaning against his Camaro when he got there. As he approached she pushed herself off the car into his chest. His arms came up and wrapped around her torso. Her head buried in his neck as she hung onto him. He heard giggles behind him and did a quick glance, he groaned quietly. Jennifer was standing there with her friends that he had met earlier. 

Laura glanced over his shoulder and whispered, “Being stalked by residents?”

Derek hissed back, “Yes.”

Laura smiled evilly into his shirt. She had recently dyed her hair blonde—Derek hated it, but Laura didn’t really care what Derek thought. “Hey girls, and guys. Just giving my boyfriend here a hug.” She stepped back from Derek and swung her long mane of blonde hair behind her in an arc of thick hair. She fluttered the backs of her fingers at them in a shooing gesture, “Run along now.” Then she turned and buried her face in Derek’s neck again. 

Derek smiled down into his sister’s hair, “Thanks.” Behind him, he heard Jennifer and company run along just as Laura had told them to. “I owe you one.”

“No, you don’t. I made you cancel your date.”

Derek blushed, “It wasn’t a date.”

“Don’t bullshit me, Derek. You shaved. And you showered. And you’re wearing a henley without holes. And it’s all tight. And your pants are super skinny. Showing off your ass, are you Derek?”

“It wasn’t a date, Laura. Stiles and I were just meeting up to talk.”

Laura’s hands flew to her mouth. “Oh my god! Why didn’t you tell me you were going out with Stiles?!?!?!”

“We were just gonna go to the cafeteria.”

“No, no no no no no! You are not telling your future children that your first date was in your college eatery!”

Derek groaned. “We aren’t having children.”

“Not at this rate!”

Derek growled, “Not at any rate.” He crossed his arms over his chest. “Now, why are you here?”

“No reason.”

“Laura.”

“Don’t try to big brother me.”

“I am physically incapable of ‘big brothering’ you, seeing as I am the little brother.”

“Same difference.” She crossed her arms over her chest.

“Stop being a petulant child. Now tell me why you called me like this.”

“Chad dumped me.”

“That little motherfucker.” Derek leaned in, “Why did he break up with you?”

“That isn’t the worst thing.”

“What is it Laura?”

“I’m pregnant.”

“That son of a bitch. He dumped you because you are pregnant? I’m going to kill him.”

“Please don’t kill him. If anyone is going to kill him, it's gonna be me. You can, however, cut off his penis.”

Despite himself, Derek chuckled. “What are you gonna do Laur? You have to tell Mom and Dad eventually.”

“I don’t know yet Der-Bear. And I know. I’m just, not ready yet.”

Derek hugged his sister close, settled his chin on the top of her head and said, “I know. Let’s go to dinner.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this one didn't have much Stiles, but some other characters have arrived!  
> Also, if you were wondering, Derek the bluesy punk that Derek is listening to is Patti Smith, who is amazing. The album I had in mind for him was [ "Radio Ethiopia" ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xCDzK6oageQ) which is her second album. In case you were wondering or wanted to know.


	4. Three Cheers for the Continuance of Story Time a.k.a. Stiles is No Longer Allowed to Get Ice Cream Cones and Dance with Danny

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Derek has a serious conversation with Laura, story time continues, and pack, I mean, friend hierarchy shifts around because Erica is nosy.
> 
> "Because it was too late for Stiles to have coffee—dude, if I have it now I’ll never sleep—the two had opted for the ice cream option. They were sitting in a booth by a window, Stiles with a waffle cone full of a weird combination of Double Dark Fudge Chocolate, Peanut Butter Explosion, and Raspberry Sherbet, and Derek with a normal cup of mint chocolate chip. 
> 
> 'I think we left off with you needing to tell a story, Stiles.'"
> 
> Stiles nodded and took another lick of his weird as hell ice cream. Yup, that should be illegal. 'So the story you just told was the story of the…'
> 
> 'You sang Taylor Swift.'

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm gonna start off and say that I'm sorry that I'm updating this late. I know, I was supposed to update yesterday, but things have been super crazy recently! This week was my last week of classes, and this next week I will be moving out and finishing up my finals, so next week's chapter might be up a little late. I am, however, trying to work on it. So it might also be on time, but a little short.
> 
> Generally, I have been trying to make the chapters longer. 
> 
> As always, assume this fic is un-beta'd. I'll tell you if something changes.
> 
> Kudos, comments, and bookmarks give Derek confidence to sing and dance to angry girl rock in the car.

Because there were so many members of the Hale family, each with very different taste in music, they generally followed the Winchester rule of music, driver picks the music, shotgun shuts his cakehole. However, during the ride over to the Thai restaurant, Derek let Laura choose the music. When, however, Laura turned on the sad crooning of Adele, Derek knew he had to do something. He sat patiently listening to “Rolling in the Deep,” then “Rumor Has It,” he knew it had to stop when she began humming the intro to “Turning Tables.”  

Her jerked the steering wheel to the right and pulled the car into a gas station’s parking lot. He hit the power button on the stereo. 

Laura’s head jerked away from the window, “I was listening to that.”

“Not in my car.” 

“Good thing this isn’t your car, Dick.”

“Laur, Cora can listen to this in the car, but you can’t.”

“Why can’t I?”

“Because it’s you.”

“Fuck you, Der. I can listen to what I want.”

“Laura, you _hate_ Adele.”

“No I don’t.” Laura crossed her arms, “Why would I have Adele on my iPod if I didn’t like her?” 

“I know for a fact that Cora put that on your iPod because she thought it would be fun. Because you hate her.”

“I could have put it on my iPod myself.”

“Bullshit. I was there. I helped her.”

“Motherfucker.” 

“Laur, put on your normal music.”

“No. I don’t feel like it.”

“Fine.” Derek leaned over, unplugged her iPod, and plugged in his phone. “Laur, listening to Adele sing about being broken hearted is not you.”

Laura dropped her arms, “I just, I feel like the carpet has been pulled out from under me.”

Derek leaned over and threw his arm around his sister’s shoulders. He tucked her head against his shoulder in a side hug. They sat like that, then Derek pulled away and replugged her iPod into the jack on the stereo. “This might make you feel better.”

Derek hit the power on the stereo, and turned it up. He rolled the windows down and turned up the bass. When the first chords came through the speakers, Laura looked up and met Derek’s eyes. “Der-bear, you hate [this song](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vqiOL8dIBVE).”

Derek rolled his eyes, “I know.” Then he began to sing it. Laura’s eyes widened and she clasped her hands over her dropped jaw. Derek looked at her, “Come on, you know you want to sing along with me.”

Laura just smiled and laughed, shaking her head. “Der, you don’t have to.”

“Ah, but I do. Come on, it’s coming up.” He started singing the second verse. 

Laura was giggling, “Stop Derek! You don’t have to do this.” There was a slight pause, and the siblings’ gaze met. 

Then, together they began to sing, “ 'Cause you're everywhere to me And when I close my eyes it's you I see You're everything I know That makes me believe I'm not alone, ooo ooo ooo I'm not alone.”

There was a slight instrumental during which both Derek and Laura played the air guitar. The sibling continued singing the song together. By the next instrumental, Laura had her arms up, fingertips brushing against the roof of the Camaro and her hair was flying around her head as she bashed her head up and down with the guitar. Derek’s mouth was split into a wide smile shaking his head and playing the air guitar for his sister.

Then the acoustic guitar came on and they began to switch off singing the lines. Laura began that verse, “And when I touch your hand.”

“It’s then I understand.”

“The beauty that’s within.”

“It’s now that we begin.”

“You always light my way.

“I hope there never comes a day.”

“No matter where I go.”

“I’ll always feel you so.”

Then they began the chorus together again, singing and rocking back and forth in the limited space of the Camaro. They kept singing until the last few notes faded off. Together, brother and sister sat for just a moment, listening to the silence and catching their breath.

Laura turned to Derek, panting slightly and let a small smile flit across her face. Derek met her slight smile with one that split across his face. Laura began to giggle and Derek’s full throated laugh joined her. Derek was still smiling when he started the engine and began to pull out of the gas station parking lot. Laura leaned over and selected the music, Paramore came bursting through the speakers, and Derek smiled, glad to have his sister back. 

Derek knew that Laura was eventually going to interrogate him about Stiles, so he enjoyed the ride to the Thai restaurant and its blissful silence. Once they had both ordered, Laura propped her elbows on the table, folded her hands, and rested her chin on her knuckles. 

“So, Der-Bear.” Laura smiled, as Derek would describe it, like an evil messenger sent by Satan himself. “When did you get so buddy-buddy with Stiles Stilinski?”

“Since he found out about the ridiculous fandom that came out of him stealing my hat.”

“What?! How did he find out?”

“Apparently, Sheriff Stilinski stumbled upon it.” Derek winced. “Apparently he doesn’t understand what fan fiction is and asked Stiles about it.”

“Oh no.”

“That’s not even the worst part.”

Laura groaned, “What is the worst part, Derek?”

“Mom showed it to him. It’s one of Peter’s.”

Laura gasped and tried to cover it with one hand. She began to speak but instead began giggling. Her shoulders shook silently, and her head bowed forward. 

“Laura,” Derek whined, “this isn’t funny.”

Instead of making Laura stop and take this seriously—shut up, it’s serious—Derek’s response only made Laura laugh even harder. Her silent laughs were breathless chuckles complete with open mouths and rocking forward and backward in her chair. 

Derek glowered and frowned at his sister, “This really isn’t that funny, Laura.”

Laura calmed herself, taking a deep breath and letting it out slowly, “I know. Just give me a second.” She coughed to cover a laugh. “So why were you going to dinner with Stilinski?”

“Well, he wanted to know how it all happened. Y’know the whole,” he flailed his hands in the air slightly, “fandom, shipping, fan fiction thing.”

“What did you tell him?”

“I tried to give the short and simple version, but he wanted the whole story.” 

“Oh my god Derek.”

“I know.” Laura began laughing again. “Y’know that you can use this whole story time plot to seduce him, right?”

“No.”

“Awwww come on! Don’t be such a,” she paused and grinned evilly.

“Don’t—”

“—Sourwolf.”

“I hate you.” 

Laura threw her head back and cackled as if she was an evil witch, “You don’t hate me. I’m gonna help you get your man.”

Derek groaned and their food arrived. Derek took the arrival of food as a way of changing the subject, “So what’s your plan now, Laur?”

Laura sighed, “Well, I should be fine at the firm. I have maternity leave and the apartment has enough room.”

“What about childcare while you are at work?”

“I don’t know.” She ran a hand over her face.

“Does your firm have anything? Or is there anyone in your building?”

She shook her head, “The firm has a daycare, but it’s for one to three. They aren’t equipped to handle infants and newborns.”

“Have you talked to your boss yet?”

Laura worried at her lip, “Not yet.”

“What about—”

“Derek, I know you care and that you’re worried about me, I get that. We were all like that after Kate,” Derek rolled his eyes at the mention of his ex-girlfriend, “Don’t give me that! You were torn up for like, a year and a half, it was really worrying.” Laura paused and grabbed her brother’s hand, “But this is all so new, I just really wanted to, I don’t know, forget about it.” She sighed and brought her hand to rub at the back of her neck, “I just needed to tell someone.”

“So you told me?”

“Of course. You’re my Der-Bear.” She smiled softly. They sat, eating their food, in silence for a few seconds.

Derek cleared his throat and took a sip of his water, “So, about helping me seduce Stiles using story time…”

Laura laughed and rubbed her hands together maniacally and the two began plotting.

On the way back to the school Laura let Derek put his own music on, and he was tapping his fingers along to The Clash. 

Laura groaned and rolled her eyes, "You can't even listen to the normal, famous Clash. You have to listen to the stuff that no one likes."

"Hey! Everyone should like this. It's beautiful."

"What even are they saying, Derek?"

"Does it matter? They're saying what you want them to say."

Laura smacked him on the shoulder, "You are such an idiot."

Derek's eyes widened and he stared at his sister, "Wow, hurtful." He held onto the injured brother look as long as he could until he broke down and smirked at his sister.

Laura rolled her eyes, "God, you're such an idiot." 

Derek inclined his head toward her and sang, "That's why you love me."

Laura snorted as Derek pulled the Camaro into parking spot and threw the car into park, "Doubt it."

They threw open the doors, and Derek gave Laura one last hug. “No, no, no, mister. I’ll walk you up.”

Derek smiled and nodded. On the way up to Derek’s room, Derek ran into Stiles. 

_Oh shit._ “Hey Stiles.”

“Oh, hey.” Stiles shoved his hands into his pockets and looked at the ground.

Laura cocked her head, “How you doin’ Stilinski?”

Stiles’s head snapped up and met Laura’s eyes, “Laura?” His eyes widened and his mouth stretched into a slight O shape. _That should be at least a little illegal._ “You dyed your hair!” Stiles’s voice rose in a way that he would most likely describe as a very manly vocal expression of surprise. 

Laura raised an eyebrow, “Yes, Stiles, I did.”

Stiles flushed slightly, “You look different. Still good. Just different as a blonde. Don’t look as much like Derek. Which is good. Because he’s a dude. Not that either of you are unattractive with your natural hair.” Stiles stopped and pursed his lips, “I mean, not that you’re super hot.” Stiles’ eyes widened, “Not that you’re ugly. Just normal levels of attractiveness all around. For the entire Hale family.” Stiles nodded as if pleased with his successful recovery of the situation.

Derek smirked, “The _entire_ Hale family?”

Stiles paused and his eyes went even wider, which at this point should have been impossible, “Uh, yeah. I mean I haven’t exactly seen the variation within the population of Hales. But I guess I can speak for this branch of the Hale family.” 

Derek had just opened his mouth to make Stiles feel just a little more uncomfortable—because, dammit, that bright red flush was more attractive than it should have been—when Laura elbowed him the ribs and he let out a slight “oomph” instead of a snarky remark.

“So, Stiles. How has life been treating you?”

Stiles relaxed, “Pretty good I guess.” 

Laura  smiled bared her teeth, “Good.” Then she turned to Derek, “Looks like you’re in good hands. Or,” she turned and winked at Stiles, “you will be.” She began to walk off toward the car. Then at halfway, she turned around and shouted, “Stiles, don’t steal anymore of my brother’s hats, eh?” Then cackled the rest of the way to her car.

Derek shoved his hands in his pockets and rocked onto his toes, “So, that’s Laura.”

Stiles nodded, blushing furiously. “So you went to dinner?”

“Ah yeah. Sorry about that. Her dickwad of a boyfriend broke up with her out of nowhere.”

“Ahhhh,” Stiles smiled his understanding, “I get it man. I have to like, wine and dine Scott whenever he and Allison go through a rough patch.”

Derek smiled and chuckled lightly. He ran a hand through his hair and pointed to his building with a thumb hitched over his shoulder. “Well, I’m just gonna—”

“Hey, did you wanna get some ice cream or coffee or something? I mean, we could continue story time."

Derek’s hand dropped back down to his side. “You know, that sounds great.” 

Stiles huffed out a breath, “Awesome.”

Because it was too late for Stiles to have coffee—dude, if I have it now I’ll never sleep—the two had opted for the ice cream option. They were sitting in a booth by a window, Stiles with a waffle cone full of a weird combination of Double Dark Fudge Chocolate, Peanut Butter Explosion, and Raspberry Sherbet, and Derek with a normal cup of mint chocolate chip. 

“I think we left off with you needing to tell a story, Stiles.”

Stiles nodded and took another lick of his weird as hell ice cream. _Yup, that should be illegal._ “So the story you just told was the story of the…”

“You sang Taylor Swift.”

“So, do I have to tell” lick, “you that story from” lick, “my point of view?” Lick, “Or can I tell you another one?” Lick, lick, lick.

Derek shrugged, “There aren’t any rules to story time.”

“Dude,” lick, “there totally should be,” lick, “rules to story time.” Lick, lick, lick, “We can’t be ruleless heathens, can we?” Lick, lick, lick, lick. _Dammit Derek, stop watching his tongue._  

“Fine, you have to tell the story from your point of view, or one of a similar plot.”

Stiles nodded, “Sounds,” lick, “fair.” Lick, lick, lick, lick. _We are never getting ice cream together ever again._ “So, that stupid,” lick, “Taylor Swift video.” Lick, lick, “It all started when….”

** 

“Hey, Danny!”

Danny glanced up from his chemistry book and worksheet, “Yeah, Stiles.”

“Am I attractive to gay guys?”

**

“Stiles? That was in like, Sophomore year.”

“And?” Lick, lick, lick.

“You didn’t post that video until that summer.”

“Jeez, Mr. Grumpy, it’s called background information.” Lick, lick, lick. “Isn’t that one of the rules?” Lick, lick, lick. “No interrupting.” 

Derek rolled his eyes and gestured for Stiles to continue his ridiculous story.

“As I was saying, it all started when I asked Danny if I was attractive to gay guys and he refused to tell me.”

**

It was the summer before Junior year of high school, and Jungle had just started their “underage nights,” a night specifically geared towards minors and underage customers. Stiles and Scott were there the opening night. The music was loud and it assaulted the young ears of everyone in the building. Stiles and Scott were sipping on virgin Rum-and-Cokes and watching crowds of teenagers grind up on each other. Six out of seven nights of the week, Jungle as a gay club, but the night for minors was for anyone willing to come out and party. As a result, the dance floor was a mass of hormonal teenagers writhing along to the beat of mixed rap and techno music. 

“Hey Stiles, is that Danny over there?” Scott pointed off to the right of the dance floor.

Stiles was surprised that Scott had even noticed Danny. He had been slightly preoccupied with watching Allison as she danced with Lydia. Which was understandable because the summer before Junior had been a hard time for Scott and Allison. “Uhhh, yeah I think. He’s got glitter everywhere, but it could be Danny.”

Scott slapped Stiles on the shoulder, “Go say hi.”

“Come on, Scott. He doesn’t think I’m attractive.”

“Maybe he’s just shy.”

“Danny? Shy? Really Scott? He’s dressed in a tight mesh black shirt, and covered in glitter. I highly doubt Danny is shy.”

“Come on! You got dressed up and everything! You look good!” Stiles just stared blankly at Scott. “You’re wearing your tight pants! Everyone loves these pants. Lydia picked them out, which just tells you that they look amazing on you.”

“Oh my god Scott. I hate you so much.” Stiles sighed and ran his fingers through his slightly longer hair. He turned around to rest his forearms on the bar. “I can’t go over there.”

“I dare you.”

Stiles whipped around, “What did you say?”

“I. Dare. You.”

Stiles’ eyes narrowed, “Fine. I’ll go over. But, if Danny ever says that I’m attractive to gay guys, I’ll sing a Taylor Swift song of your choosing and post the video of it to the internet.”

As Stiles walked away, Scott cat-called him and cheered him on.

Eventually Stiles found himself standing in front of Danny who was slightly tipsy. 

Stiles’s gaze narrowed, “You snuck alcohol in.”

“Yeah, well. My ex is over there.” Danny tipped his chin in the direction of the dance floor where the ex-boyfriend was grinding up against some guy without a shirt.

“That guy?” Stiles paused, “Interesting.”

“What?”

“Nothing. He just said he liked my pants earlier.”

Danny gaped in his direction, “He hit on _you_?”  

“Uh, yeah.” Stiles said, pretending as if the italics that Danny had put on the 'you' hadn't hurt.

“What did you say?” Danny’s eyes glinted mischievously.

“I said, thanks but no thanks. Not really my type.”

Danny beamed and the two turned to look at the ex-boyfriend. Who was currently staring and Stiles’s ass. Danny’s eyes flicked up and down, pausing on Stiles’s ass, “Stiles, did you maybe want to dance?”

Stiles flushed, “Yeah?”

Danny beamed, flashing his dimpled at Stiles. “Awesome.”

Danny led him onto the dance floor and grasped Stiles’ hips. Stiles threw his arms over Danny’s shoulders and began moving his hips in a bump and grind to follow Danny’s. 

Stiles leaned up to whisper in Danny’s ear, “Is your ex watching?” Danny nodded, chin moving slightly against Stiles’s hair. “Good.” Then Stiles spun in Danny’s arms and shoved his ass against Danny’s groin. Stiles felt Danny’s hands clamp tighter on his waist, and they began to move his hips in a grind that was slower but lower, dirtier. 

Stiles arched his back, and looped his arms around Danny’s neck. Now they were plastered against each other from neck to pelvis. Stiles could feel Danny’s chest move with each labored breath. Stiles tipped his neck back, letting it rest on Danny’s shoulder. 

He did not know when his eyes fell shut, just listening to the music and feeling Danny behind him, but when Danny brought his mouth over to ask him if his ex-boyfriend was watching them, he had to open them just a little bit. Half-lidded, his eyes fluttered and he saw the gaze of the ex-boyfriend following the two of them, and their hips, like a hawk. 

Stiles stretched just a little more to whisper in Danny’s ear. The slight stretch brushed their hips together in new ways, and it made the breath come and go faster. Stiles was panting, breathless, as he whispered in Danny’s ear, “Like a hawk.” Uncoordinated and more aroused than he expected to be, his tongue flicked out to far and he lost his balance slightly, and his tongue brushed the shell of Danny’s ear.

Danny groaned and spun Stiles around so quickly, that Stiles became slightly dizzy. They were plastered together, thigh to pelvis, to chest to shoulders. Stiles still his his arms looped around Danny’s neck and Danny still had his arms hands clasped to where Stiles’s shirt had come up in their rough movements. 

Danny crushed his mouth against Stiles’s, who groaned and let Danny’s tongue in. Quickly, blindly, Stiles walked Danny backward until Danny’s back hit the wall. Danny’s head was caged between Stiles’s hands pressed against the wall. Their tongues warred and danced in each others’ mouths. Groans and moans were indistinguishable between the two of them, all Stiles knew is that they were there, hanging in the air. 

Danny pulled his mouth from Stiles’s and trailed it down Stiles’s neck. About halfway down, Danny struck, biting softly before licking the mark into a bruise. Stiles arced forward, pushing Danny into the wall further and rubbing their danced-and-kiss-induced erections together.

Needing to breathe, Stiles pulled back and looked at Danny. His lips were swollen, face flushed, eyes dilated, and hair mussed. Stiles grinned, Danny looked like he had been furiously ravished. Stiles had no doubt that he looked the same. Danny’s eyes widened as he stared at something over Stiles’s shoulder. Stiles turned to see the ex-boyfriend standing there.

“Marcus.” Danny croaked.

Stiles smiled, “That’s my cue to leave. See ya, Danny. Thanks for the dance.” He smirked in the direction of Marcus, “Marcus.” He saluted and sauntered away, hampered only slightly by the erection in his tight jeans. 

He appeared beside Scott who was staring at him as if he had just turned into a dragon man with seven heads. “Hey Scott? I think I might be attractive to gay guys.” Stiles turned his head to stare at his best friend and when their eyes met they began to laugh and they couldn’t stop.

**

Derek was frowning. “You didn’t tell me the story of the video.” Derek shifted in his seat, finding his pants slightly, err, uncomfortable. 

“What?” Stiles was flushed, lost in memories of the past.

“You told me how you found out that you’re attractive to gay guys, but what about the video.” In his head, Derek created a list of things Stiles was not allowed to do. 1.) Buy an ice cream cone and lick it like he’s starring in a damn porno. 2.) Tell dirty dancing with Danny in Jungle stories. 

“Oh, you want me to tell you about filming it?”

“Yeah.”

“Why didn’t you stop me?”

“You looked like you were enjoying your trip down memory lane.” Derek smirked at Stiles.

Stiles flushed even more, “Does this count as a second story?”

“I don’t mind.”

“All right then.”

“So, there I was—”

“Excuse me.” One of the ice cream shop employees cut Stiles off. “We’re actually closing now. We let your date continue for as long as possible, but we really need to clean your table now.”

Derek and Stiles looked around, the floor was wet and the mop was in the corner in a large yellow bucket, the chairs were stacked on top of the tables, and the lights were all off. 

Derek winced, “Sorry about that.”

The employee smiled, “It’s okay, you guys are a really cute couple. No one minded.”

Derek began to say that they weren’t a couple, but Stiles cut him off, “Sorry about that, we’ll leave now.”

The two left the ice cream shop and Derek motioned to a nearby bench, “We can sit and you can tell the story of you filming the video.”

“Sounds like a plan, Stan.” Stiles winked and fired a finger gun at Derek.

Derek looked blankly at Stiles, “I’m Derek.” 

Stiles reached over and patted Derek where his hands were clasped in front of him, “Of course you are.” He smiled and winked. “So where was I? Oh yeah, Scott and I were in my room.”

**

Scott was staring at the purple bruise on Stiles’s neck. “That totally proves that you’re attractive to gay guys!”

“Shut up, Scott.” Stiles was laying on his stomach, face down in a pillow, arms wrapped up under his head. 

Scott was practically dancing around Stiles’s room, “Now you have to sing a Taylor Swift song.”

“Right now?!” Stiles groaned. It was much too early for this bullshit. 

“Of course right now!” Scott smirked, “You have to still have the hickey on your neck.”

Stiles groaned and threw his pillow at his best friend. “God, I never should have hung out with you in the sandbox.”

“Yeah, well, too late to go back in time and fix it. Deal with it, dude.”

“You are the worst human being ever."

“Get up or I’ll tell your dad about Danny.”

Stiles jerked up, “You wouldn’t.”

“I totally would.”

Stiles stared and studied Scott. “Nope. Don’t believe you.” Stiles flopped back down.

Scott stared at his pale friend, laying in bed. Then he turned on his heel and crashed out of the room. “Sheriff! Sheriff! Sheriff! Sheriff!” He thundered down the stairs and distantly heard Stiles yelp as he jumped out of bed and crashed to the floor, tangled in his blankets. 

Scott ran into the Stilinski’s kitchen to see the Sheriff with a cup of coffee, with a folded newspaper in front of him. “Yes, Scott?”

As Scott opened his mouth to reveal what had happened at Jungle when Stiles slid on the tile and crashed into Scott’s back. The two fell to the ground in a tangle of teenage boy and limbs. Scott righted himself first only to have Stiles clamp his hands over Scott’s mouth. Scott tried biting and licking at Stiles’ hands, but alas after sixteen or so years of best friendship, that no longer discouraged Stiles from clamping his hand over Scott’s mouth to shut him up.

“Hey, Daddio. How’re you doing.”

The Sheriff just raised an eyebrow. “Just fine." 

“Awesome.” Stiles nodded and glanced back up the stairs, “Well, we’re gonna go back to my room. Have a good day at work.”

Stiles had just pushed Scott toward the stairs in an attempt to get him away from his father when his dad appeared in the doorway of the kitchen. “And Scott, if what you were going to say to me is in reference to that hickey on my son’s neck, I’m way ahead of you.”

Stiles’ eyes widened and the already pale teenager paled even more. Scott beamed and looked like he had just won the lottery. 

The Sheriff just smiled and headed toward the door. “Now, if you boys will excuse me, I have a Mahealani boy to interrogate and scare the crap out of.” Then he opened the door, and laughing and cackling manically, the Sheriff strode to his cruiser and drove to the station. 

Scott turned to look at Stiles, eyes wide and shining in admiration, “Duuuuddddeee, your dad is awesome.”

Stiles groaned and continued up the stairs, muttering about evil fathers who have no respect for their son's sexually charged nights at clubs. 

Later, when Scott and Stiles were done filming the video, Stiles received a text from Danny.

_ From: Dimple God _

Ummm Stiles? Why did your dad just pull me over for going 22 in a 25 zone, then instead of writing a ticket, just staring at me with an eyebrow raised and his hand on his gun, before saying, “I’m watching you, Mahealani.” Then walking away to his cruiser, getting in and driving away slowly, staring at me the entire time? 

Stiles groaned flopped on his bed. “I’m never gonna be able to look at Danny ever again.”

Scott looked at the text and, before sending a response for Stiles, cackled like a villain.

_ To: Dimple God _

I don’t know. ASK MY HICKEY.

**

Derek was laughing, which was a much better reaction than that of the first story. “Your dad is hilarious.”

“Yeah, that’s what you think.” But Stiles was chuckling and only flushing slightly. 

Derek checked the time and winced, “Shit, we should go. Sorry. I’m on call tonight.”

“Oh no problem. I should probably get back to.”

They walked back to Derek’s dorm building silently. At the door, Stiles waved him off and Derek gave him a returning smile, waving slightly. 

Derek was unlocking his room door when he got a text from Erica.

_From: Evil Stiletto Queen_

So, you’ve been cozying up with Stilinski, have you?

 

_To: Evil Stiletto Queen_

I never should have introduced you to Laura.

 

_From: Evil Stiletto Queen_

Look at you, not even denying it.

 

_To: Evil Stiletto Queen_

I hate you.

 

_ From: Evil Stiletto Queen _

Bullshit you love me. And my Batman.

 

_ To: Evil Stiletto Queen _

There is no way that you are Catwoman. 

 

_ From: Evil Stiletto Queen _

BLASPHEMER!

 

_ From: Hat Thief _

Why did I just get a text from Erica saying that you are no longer worthy of my friendship?

  
_To: Hat Thief_

I told her that there is no way she is Catwoman

 

_ From: Hat Thief _

I regret to inform you that you’re friendship has officially been placed on a probationary period. 

Thank you and have a good day.

 

_ To: Evil Stiletto Queen _

What did you tell Stiles?

 

_ To: Evil Stiletto Queen _

Erica

 

_ To: Evil Stiletto Queen _

ERICA

 

_ To: Big Bald Saint _

Tell your fiancé that her best friend status has been revoked. She’s been replaced by Isaac.

 

_ From: Too Snarky to be a Puppy _

Why did I just get a text from Erica telling me to go to hell?

 

_ To: Too Snarky to be a Puppy _

You are my new best friend.

 

_ From: Too Snarky to be a Puppy _

Better than Erica?

 

_ To: Too Snarky to be a Puppy _

Yes.

 

_ From: Too Snarky to be a Puppy _

Awesome. :)

 

_ From: Hat Thief _

What is going on between you and your friends? And why am I getting very angry texts in caps from Erica? 

 

_ From: Hat Thief _

Also, why is Scott getting texts from Isaac about being your best friend?

 

_ To: Hat Thief _

There has been some shifting in the hierarchy.

 

_ From: Hat Thief _

Hierarchy? What are you, the Alpha of a wolf pack?

 

_ To: Hat Thief, Too Snarky to be a Puppy, Big Bald Saint, Evil Stiletto Queen _

I am the Alpha now. :)

Thank Stiles for that nickname.

 

_ From: Hat Thief _

YOU BASTARD

 

_ From: Hat Thief _

HAVE YOU NO DECENCY

 

_ From: Hat Thief _

WHAT HAVE YOU DONE

Derek smiled, threw his phone onto his bed and headed to his door to go do rounds. He opened his door, and a glass bottle tumbled onto his floor. He cursed and jumped backward from the puddle of dirty water flooding his floor. He kneeled down and picked up the glass bottle. The entire inside of the clear bottle was covered in mold, and Derek began to gag. 

He sighed, threw the bottle out in the communal trashcan in the main hallway. Then he went over to the bathroom and grabbed the entire rolls of paper towels. He carried it back to his room, and grabbed out the Clorox bleach spray that he kept for times like this. He grumbled and wiped away the dirty water. When the floor was dry, he sprayed the entire area with the bleach and wiped it away with more paper towels. He considered the area, thought of the moldy Snapple bottle, and sprayed more Clorox over the area. _You can never be too careful._

When it was cleaned to his satisfaction, he turned off his light, closed and locked his door, and headed out to do rounds. He met the other R.A. on schedule to be on call and quickly explained to her what had happened.

“One of my residents filled a moldy Snapple bottle with dirty water and propped it against my door with the bottle open.” He wrinkled his nose in disgust.

“That sucks.” The other R.A. wrinkled her nose and shook her head, disbelieving that someone would actually do that.

“Sometimes I really like my job, and others I really hate it.” 

She nodded like she knew exactly what he meant, “Have you been having any problems with any of your residents recently?”

“There is this one girl who has been, er, stalking me.”

Her eyes widened, then narrowed, “Stalking you? Have you reported her?”

“No, I mean, she’s just a freshman with a crush.”

“Derek—”

“Heather, it’s not a big deal. I’ll handle it. Let’s just start our rounds.”

“Whatever you say.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1\. In case you were wondering, The Clash song that Derek was listening to that no one understands is [ "City of the Dead." ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=lobje6h16zU) Also, the song that Laura and Derek sing together is [ "Everywhere" ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=HLCasyAh7ic) by Michelle Branch.
> 
> 2\. The Clash is beautiful and nothing anyone can say will ever make me doubt that.
> 
> 3\. I was definitely one of those girls who sang along to Michelle Branch in her room because her first grade crush was out of her league.
> 
> 4\. I fully respect anyone who wishes to sing along to Adele in the car because they are heartbroken. Stare out those windows like you are in the music video for "Turning Tables."
> 
> 5\. Also, that club scene with Danny is probably the closest I'll ever get to writing smut.
> 
> 6\. I'm working on a one-shot, and plotting out a multi-chaptered (both are Sterek).
> 
> 7\. If it's your cup of tea, I am working on a multi-chaptered Merthur fic as well. The working title, "The Notetaker's Guide To Wooing Arthur Pendragon."
> 
> Once I have more time, those fics will come out, but finals week is here and I'll be super busy with all that stressful stuff.
> 
> Thanks for listening to me ramble, and see you next week.  
> Here, I have a sneak peek for you:
> 
> "Like an idiot, he had checked his phone to see if he had any messages, and he did. A lot.
> 
> From: Uncle God I Hope Psychopathic Tendencies are Normal  
> What is this I hear about you on a date with Stiles?"
> 
> That's it. That's all you're getting.
> 
> Let me know what you're thinking, feeling, wondering, and all that good stuff in the comments below.  
> *points enthusiastically to my pants.*
> 
> Or on [ my Tumblr ](http://a-love-story-across-fandoms.tumblr.com)


	5. That Really Short One a.k.a. The One Where Derek Is Mistaken for a Door

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Just a tiny little baby chapter, like really. Derek accidentally gets punched in the face. And decides to go commando. He should really stop making these kind of decisions.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Like all the other chapters in this ridiculous fic, this is un-beta'd. Also, we get more Peter, because holy god I kind of like writing perverted, yet well-meaning Peter Hale. 
> 
> Comments, Kudos, and Bookmarks convince Derek to go commando more often.

It should be said, or at least mentioned that Derek did not always have the best luck while doing rounds. For some reason the sex-starved students of his little liberal arts college seemed to emerge from their musty pits of masturbation to actually find sexual partners only when Derek was on call. There was one memorable time when he had walked in on a threesome in one of the study rooms in the dorm. Derek had glowered at all three, staring down at their feet, blushing furiously. He had written them up because while his school was liberal and all about free love, there was a difference between having a threesome in the safety of your dorm room and in a study room in a dorm hall. 

Then, there was the time that refused to even think about. He had caught Erica and Boyd in one of the dorm kitchens, _kitchens_ people. Is nothing sacred? People cook in there. He had dragged the two of them out into the hallway, Erica’s leather skirt around her ankles, hair mussed, lip stick smeared and Boyd’s shirt open, marked with bright red lipstick and hickeys, pants undone, and proceeded to rant about their unhygienic way of passing time while waiting for Boyd’s birthday cake to stop baking. One or two doors had opened and their residents had watched, shocked as Derek had fetched bleach and the two had had to scrub down the entire counter. While still in disarray. Derek had still written them up. Well, he had written up Boyd because Erica did not go to his school and he had no power over her. Eventually, Boyd had ended up transferring and choosing to go to a school closer to Erica’s. 

None of those times compared, however, to this particular night of rounds. Everything had gone just fine, he had caught a couple of freshmen smoking pot in the entryway of a building. He had had to knock on a couple of doors because quiet hours people, and on the plus side, only one of those doors had been a couple having sex. The others were just sophomores playing video games at two o’clock in the morning. Derek had gotten back to his room and was ready to collapse on his bed because being an R.A. was too damn hard. 

Like an idiot, he had checked his phone to see if he had any messages, and he did. A lot. 

 

_From: Uncle God I Hope Psychopathic Tendencies are Normal_

What is this I hear about you on a date with Stiles?

 

_From: Uncle God I Hope Psychopathic Tendencies are Normal_

I heard that he has read one of my works. Did he like it?

 

_From: Uncle God I Hope Psychopathic Tendencies are Normal_

Or, more importantly, did his father like it? Your Stiles had to get his looks from somewhere.

 

_From: Uncle God I Hope Psychopathic Tendencies are Normal_

Did he think his reactions to your dominant behavior were correct? I didn’t really have any source material to go off of.

 

_From: Uncle God I Hope Psychopathic Tendencies are Normal_

Or did he read the one where he was the dominant one in the relationship?

 

_From: Uncle God I Hope Psychopathic Tendencies are Normal_

Did he read the one with the inflatable raft? I’ve actually tried that one out in real life, and let me tell you…….

 

_From: Uncle God I Hope Psychopathic Tendencies are Normal_

It was amazing. It works wonders for your back…. Maybe I’ll try to seduce Christopher with it. 

 

_From: Uncle God I Hope Psychopathic Tendencies are Normal_

Oh wait, I forgot. That piece of beautiful man meat is still taken by that raging bitch. 

 

_From: Uncle God I Hope Psychopathic Tendencies are Normal_

Would it be weird to make a new work about me and Christopher? It might help him see what we could be together.

 

_From: Uncle God I Hope Psychopathic Tendencies are Normal_

I’ll email the fic to you. You can be my lovely beta. 

 

_To: Uncle God I Hope Psychopathic Tendencies are Normal_

I don’t want to be your beta, Peter.

 

_From: Uncle God I Hope Psychopathic Tendencies are Normal_

Oh, you will be.

 

_From: Mother Knows Best_

Bring him next time you come to visit. We never get to meet your lovers. 

 

_From: The Only Sane One in the Entire Damn House_

Son, if you don’t want to bring your Stiles home, it’s fine. We can just fly out there, except I can’t bring my shotgun on a plane. That’s a problem.

 

_From: The Littlest Devil_

BROOOO GEEEEEEETTTTTTT IIIIIIITTTTTT!

 

_From: The Littlest Devil_

IT’S ABOUT TIME U GOT LAIIIDDDDD BY STILES!

 

_From: Does Nana Even Know How to Use Her Phone?_

My dear Derek,

I know we seem a little overbearing, but we really just want you to be happy. And this Stiles character seems to make you very happy. Even if he did steal your hat. Although, it could be a part of his plan to seduce you. 

I must say, I’m very glad it worked.  I sent you some cookies so you can celebrate with your love-bug. Now, you get back to whatever you were doing with that nice boy. Nana won’t judge, I’ve been in your position a couple times before ;)

I’ll try to keep everyone off your back for tonight. Enjoy your night and your Stiles.

Love always,

Nana

 

Derek scrolled through his text messages, groaning through Peter’s, paling when getting to his mother’s, laughing when he read his father’s—because, yeah his father was the most sane one in that whole damn house—smacking his forehead when he read Cora’s, and blushing furiously when he read his Nana’s. Nana should not have ideas of what he is doing with Stiles at night. In positions. Involving seducing. 

“Someone really needs to take away Nana’s phone.” Derek mumbled, then turned on his side and promptly fell into a dreamless sleep.

Well, not necessarily a dreamless sleep, but if Derek’s dream happened to involve Stiles, his Nana’s cookies, and an inflatable raft, well no one had to know, right?

Derek awoke the next morning to a fist pounding against his door. He checked the iPod dock next to his bed for the time, 10:30 a.m. Derek growled and threw off his covers. At some point in the night he had gotten up and pulled off his jeans and shirt, leaving him in only his pair of black boxer briefs. He mumbled about getting only seven and a half hours—he generally needed about nine and a half, or eight hours and two and a half coffees. He clunked over to his door and threw it open just as another group of knocks started against the door. The fist that had been pounding against the door instead pounded against his face.

He heard an, “Oh shit!” as his head snapped backward and he stumbled back into his room.

“What the f—” Derek started as he covered his face with his hands.

“Oh my God! Derek!”

Derek opened his eyes to see Stiles, standing in front of him holding a coffee in each hand, “Did you not get my text messages?”

Derek shook his head, “No, I’ve been asleep.”

Stiles’ eyes widened, “I figured you’d be awake, I mean, I thought you’d be an early riser.”

Derek straightened, “Not when I have rounds until three in the morning.”

Stiles began backing up toward the door, “Oh my God, just go back to sleeping. Pretend I didn’t bother you.” He reached the still open door, “Like really, no need to worry.” His shoulder bumped against the door jamb, “This has all been a dream, a really awkward dream. A dream where I punched you in the face because I thought you were a door.” Stiles winced and bit his lip, “Okay, now that this dream has been sufficiently awkward, Dream Stiles is just going to leave you to dream about something else. Like Kiera Knightly or Matthew Lewis or Emma Watson or Andrew Garfield in that Spider-man suit, because let me tell you, I love Batman and all but Andrew Garfield in that Spider-Man suit makes me want to change religions. From like, agnostic to Spandex, like Holy God of Spandex thank you for making both Spandex and that ass. Amen.”

Derek lunged forward and grabbed Stiles’s wrist, “If that’s a black coffee then all is forgiven.”

Stiles’ eyes crinkled with his wide smile, “It’s a black coffee.” He tipped it in Derek’s direction. 

Derek smiled gratefully and took it out of Stiles’s proffered hand, “Lemme put some clothes on and then we can go.”

Stiles glanced down, saw Derek’s state of undress, and blushed, “Uh, yeah. Sure. I’ll just, wait in the hall. While you get clothed. In clothes.” Stiles stared at the floor, the blush climbing up his neck to stop at his cheeks.

“What else would I get dressed in?”

Stiles looked up from where he was staring at the ground, “Nothing.. I mean, what?”

Derek raised an eyebrow, “What else would I get dressed in?” He crossed his arms against his chest, “A sheet?”

Stiles mumbled under his breath.

“What?” 

“Oh, uh, nothing.”

“You said something.”

“No I didn’t.”

“Yeah you did."

“I didn’t say anything.”

“No, you definitely said something.”

“Fine! I called you a smartass.”

Derek’s eyes narrowed, “I don’t think that’s what you said.”

“Yes it is.”

Derek raised an eyebrow in response.

“Oh shut up.”

“I didn’t say anything.”

“You didn’t need to, your eyebrows did all the speaking for you."

“My eyebrows can’t talk.”

“Yes,” Stiles sighed, “they can, Derek.” Stiles stepped into the hallway and closed the door, “Just get dressed.”

Derek took a sip of his coffee, snorted, and went to change his boxer briefs. One glance in his drawer was enough for him to realize that he really needed to do laundry. He had one pair of underwear left, and it was the incredibly tight pair of gold briefs his last boyfriend had gotten him for his own birthday. Derek still remembered that night, he had walked out in them, his boyfriend had wolf-whistled and had said, “Happy birthday to me.” Derek smiled fondly at the memory and then thought that it would be weird to wear underwear someone else had gotten for him on a date, errr, two platonic friends meeting up platonically and telling platonic friend stories while they ate a platonic brunch. Platonically. Derek shrugged his shoulders, _I’ll just go commando. What could go wrong?_ And yeah, Derek knew that he probably should not have thought that.

Derek threw on a pair of jeans that wasn’t too tight, he didn’t want everyone to know that he was going commando. Derek looked at his three options of shirt, a charcoal, long-sleeved henley, a navy blue short-sleeve, or a white tank top. He stood over his three options and gave a sound of displeasure. 

He stomped over to the door, threw it open and growled, “Gray or blue?”

Stiles blinked owlishly. “Um, blue?” 

Derek grunted and stretched his arms up and over his head to pull on the t-shirt. He jammed his feet into an old, scuffed pair of black leather boots, grabbed his keys, made sure he had his coffee in his hand, and pulled his door closed. 

He ran a hand through his still sleep mussed hair, took a long gulp of his coffee, and glanced at Stiles who was staring at him, “You ready to go?”

Stiles nodded slowly and took a sip of his own coffee. Derek grunted. “I guess it’s my turn then?”

“Yeah.”

 “What should I tell next?”

“Exactly how all this started.” Stiles pointed an accusatory index finger between Derek’s eyes, “You, mister, have been able to get away with this, but no longer!” Stiles’s finger shifted so that it pointed to the sky, “Tell me how this actually all started.”

“I did.”

“No, you told me about the time you voted for me for student council, and the time your sisters made you watch one of my very embarrassing, you have yet to tell me exactly how all of this ridiculousness started.”

Derek paused, and raised an eyebrow at Stiles, “I told you, you stole my hat.”

“And how, exactly, did that start everything?”

Derek took a gulp of his coffee thought about it for a moment then said, "You're right," he sighed,  “it started how everything starts, a camping trip, a hike, and a very nosy best friend.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I posted this, with the intention of making this much longer, but decided that the next chapter will make up for this one being so short. The next chapter will be posted TOMORROW, 5/21.  
> It is, however, my sister's birthday tomorrow, so the chapter might be really late Wednesday, or really early Thursday. It should, however, be a pretty great one. 
> 
> Btw: Stiles definitely did not say that Derek was a smartass.
> 
> 05/26: Okay, please don't hate me. I'm just updating everyone on what is happening. I got bit by the inspiration bug and decided, out of the blue (also, as the result of a request), to work on a five chapter, suspenseful ride of epic proportions. It's still for Teen Wolf, and I have a rocking beta for it. It promises to be intense and full of BAMF Stiles.  
> Don't worry though! I will still be updating this fic EVERY WEDNESDAY. I skipped last week's, sorry but it will be uploaded this week and it will be a doozy. Long stories for both Stiles and Derek, and some bromancey type things between Derek and Isaac. Notice I've also added two chapters to this fic, so rejoice. Those will be epilogue type chapters with shots into the future.


	6. Stiles' First Interlude a.k.a. In Stiles' Defense, Derek is Very Door-like

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> All Stiles wanted to do was get Derek some coffee, maybe flirt a little. But, no, Derek's ninja powers seem to extend to opening doors.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a little interlude from Stiles' point of view, just for a change of pace. There will probably be a couple of these, and they won't be necessarily essential to the plot. These do not count as official chapters. Even if there is an interlude posted that week, there will still be a full chapter update.
> 
> These will probably have a lot of Stiles' thoughts in them, simply because he lives in his head, and those are where the funniest interactions happen. 
> 
> Comment or kudo if you like this, if you don't, no worries I don't have to write these. I just thought it might be fun to see Stiles' reactions to things every once in a while.

 

_To: Groucho Derek_

Heeeeyyyyy Derek!

 

_To: Groucho Derek_

Did you want coffee? I just happened to be at the coffee shop. 

 

_To: Groucho Derek_

I'm in line.

 

_To: Groucho Derek_

I'm almost there

 

_To: Groucho Derek_

Fine. Don't answer me. But if you wanted a fancy coffee, too bad. 

 

_To: Groucho Derek_

I got you black coffee. Because it matches your soul.

 

_To: Groucho Derek_

I'm taking your silence as grudging acceptance.

 

_To: Groucho Derek_

You know, ignoring me isn't going to make me go away.

 

_To: Groucho Derek_

Hey, I'm at your building. Could you come down and let me in.

 

_To: Groucho Derek_

DDDDEEEERRRRREEEEEKKKK!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

 

_To: Groucho Derek_

DEREK DEREK DEREK DEREK DEREK DEREK DEREK DEREK

Oh, nevermind. Someone let me in. 

 

_To: Groucho Derek_

She said I looked sad and pathetic. 

 

_To: Groucho Derek_

I bet you're wondering how I'm texting you even though my hands are full of coffee.

 

_To: Groucho Derek_

I'd tell you, but then I'd have to kill you. Because I'm a superhero. Texting is my superpower, and one-sided conversations give me power.

 

_To: Groucho Derek_

I'm almost to your room with your coffee, my wonderful personality, and the possibility of a great story!

 

Stiles stood at Derek's door and thought,  _Did he really not get any of my texts?_

He sighed and stacked the coffees, his own on top of Derek's, and began pounding on the door. His fist hit the door in rhythmic groups of four. Stiles considered the time for a moment, it was probably 10:30, he had sent the last text to Derek at around 10:23. He was glancing around, when he started to pound on the door again. His fist hit the door, once, twice, then three times when suddenly, on the fourth he did not hit a door.

"Oh shit!" He called as Derek stumbled back into his room, his head snapped back.

"What the f--" Derek clasped his hands around his face.

"Oh my God! Derek!" Stiles was very nearly dropped the coffees, but his balance had gotten somewhat better over the years, and only a bit of his coffee spilled out onto the lid. Derek opened his eyes, and Stiles asked if Derek had gotten his text messages.

Derek shook his head, his hair mussed, eyelids drooping, "No, I've been asleep."

Stiles' eyes widened, and took in the adorable Sleepy Derek, "I figured you'd be awake, I mean, I thought you'd be an early riser."

Derek straightened, but Stiles successfully kept his eyes from trailing down Derek's body, "Not when I have rounds until three in the morning."

_Holy shit, he must be exhausted._ "Oh my God, just go back to sleeping. Pretend I didn't bother you."  _Fucking retreat, Stilinski._ "Like really, no need to worry." _Dumbass, why would he be worried about you?_ "This has all been a dream, a really awkward dream. A dream where I punched you in the face because I thought you were a door."  _Back away slowly and he might not strangle you with the sleeves of his leather jacket._ "Okay, now that this dream has been sufficiently awkward, Dream Stiles is just going to leave you to dream about something else. Like Kiera Knightly or Matthew Lewis or Emma Watson or Andrew Garfield in that Spider-Man suit, because let me tell you, I love Batman and all but Andrew Garfield in that Spider-Man suit makes me want to change religions. From like, agnostic to Spandex, like Holy God of Spandex thank you for making both Spandex and that ass. Amen."  _Shut up, shut up, shut up shut up. Stop thinking about Andrew Garfield in Spandex in front of Derek. You might pop a boner. Oh shit. Now you're thinking about Andrew Garfield, and Spandex, and Derek and boners and Derek, Derek, oh shit._ Derek was reaching forward, and Stiles was almost positive he was going to die. _  
_

A large warm hand covered his wrist, and holy shit it was Derek, "If that's a black coffee then all is forgiven."

_Thank God for black coffee,_ thought Stiles as he tipped the coffee into Derek's hand and said, "It's a black coffee."

Derek smiled,  _and holy shit, Derek should smile all the time,_ "Lemme put some clothes on and then we can go."

Which is when Stiles realized that Derek had been standing there, almost naked. Stiles' eyes traced down Derek's torso, caught on his biceps, then on his abs. His eyes followed the thin line of dark hair trailing into his black boxer briefs. His eyes jumped over the muscular thighs, and the calves decorated in dark hair. Stiles felt the blood rush to his face, "Uh, yeah. Sure. I'll just, wait in the hall. While you get clothed. In clothes." Stiles forced his eyes to the ground,  _don't look at his junk, don't look at his junk, don't look at his junk._

"What else would I get dressed in?"

_Nothing, get dressed in nothing. Just,_ "Nothing..."  _Oh shit, that was out loud._ "I mean, what?"

Derek raised an eyebrow, and  _oh God, I should not have read that fic. Now I just wanna lick it._ "What else would I get dressed in?" Then he crossed his arms, and oh god that just emphasized his forearms, biceps, and shoulders, and now Stiles had a fetish. "A sheet?"

Cursed with one of the most perverse minds when around Derek Hale, Stiles instantly imagine Derek dressed in a sheet. Then just laying in a bed, torso bare, sheet wrapped just so around his waist, but with sex mussed hair and his smile. Then the bed turned into _Stiles'_ bed and a sheet became _Stiles'_ sheets and oh shit, his blood was not heading toward his face anymore.  _My sheet._ _  
_

"What?" Apparently Stiles had not said that in his head like he had meant to.

"Oh, uh, nothing."  _Smooth Stilinski._

"You said something."  _Holy shit, cover, cover, cover._

"No I didn't."  _Great job. Really, great improving._ _  
_

"Yeah you did."  _Derek is not buying this, say something else._

"I didn't say anything."  _Fuck it._ _  
_

"No, you definitely said something." 

"Fine! I called you a smartass."  _Maybe he'll buy it. God of Spandex, please let him believe it._

"I don't think that's what you said."  _Fuck you, God of Spandex. Think of something better, Stilinski._

"Yes it is."  _Way to fucking go._ _  
_

Derek raised an eyebrow.  _I wonder if he would be weirded out if I jumped him and just started licking him all over?_

"Oh shut up."

"I didn't say anything."  _Oh shit, he thinks I'm talking to him. Save it, Stilinski. Please God of Eyebrows, help me out here._

"You didn't need to, your eyebrows did all the speaking for you."  _Thank you, God of Eyebrows. I love you._

_"_ My eyebrows can't talk."  _Topic successfully changed._ _  
_

"Yes, they can Derek." Stiles closed the door, "Just get dressed." And what would he give to be able to say that in another context. One with significantly more orgasms on both sides of the equation.

While Stiles stood outside, waiting for Derek to get dressed, he noticed the room across from Derek's. In pink, curly cursive, complete with a heart over the 'i' was a sign that said, 'Jennifer.' Stiles smirked as he realized that he had found Derek's stalker. The door opened, and a freshman with pale skin, dark hair, and dark eyes appeared. She spotted him, sipping his coffee, gray beanie hanging off his head, and promptly swung the door open. 

"He doesn't wake up until late the day after he does rounds."

Stiles did his best 'Derek' impression--it consisted of raising an eyebrow and smirking while taking a long sip of coffee, "Oh, I'm just waiting for him to finish dressing so we can go to breakfast." 

She snorted and stared at Stiles, all but saying 'as if' with her eyes. Stiles grinned at the little stalker, and she slammed her door.

Derek's door flew open, and there stood Derek in all his shirtless glory, "Charcoal or blue?"

At the sight of Derek's torso, Stiles forgot about the stalker across the hall, "Um, blue?"

Derek pulled on his shirt, and as horrible as it was to see him cover up  _all_ that beautiful man muscle, the action of him pulling a shirt over his head caused his arm muscles, and the muscles along his side to flex and slide, and oh god, Stiles just wanted to watch Derek put on and take off shirts all damn day.

Stiles was so distracted by the image of Derek stripping his shirt, over and over for him, that Stiles didn't even notice that Derek was ready until Derek's door was closed and he was saying, "You ready to go?"

Stiles nodded, the image of shirtless Derek still in his head, and took a sip of his own coffee.

Derek started talking, and Stiles sat back and enjoyed the movement of Derek's lips as he talked and drank the coffee that Stiles had bought for him. Errr, the show. Stiles sat back and enjoyed the show, not Derek's lips. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you want me to put the interludes into a separate work, and then make them a part of the same series, I can do that.
> 
> Spread the love [ here ](http://a-love-story-across-fandoms.tumblr.com)


	7. Everything is Great, and There is Almost a Kiss a.k.a. Scott and Grape Juice Ruin Everything

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stiles finally gets to learn how he actually stole Derek's hat. There is a very revealing game of Never Have I Ever, some swimming, some bonding, and some reasons as to why Derek should really not have gone commando. It begins with "Grape" and ends with "Juice."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello my lovelies, I'm sorry it took me so long to get this chapter out! I'm very sorry! I know I said some things were going to be in this chapter, Stiles doesn't get his story time, but I think there will be a little bonus shot, a little interlude, if you will from Stiles's point of view. Just to make up for it. 
> 
> The reason Stiles doesn't get storytime is: it was already really long (7,400 words for this chapter and I usually try to keep it between 4,000-5,000 per chapter). Also, there was a lot going on, and I think I needed to end it where I did. 
> 
> Also, if you notice, I changed the rating. Simply because of the Never Have I Ever game that they play, it gets a little racy. Mainly because Jackson is an asshole and they're all a little bit drunk.
> 
> As always, this is un-beta'd.
> 
> Kudos, comments and bookmarks encourage more almost Sterek kisses.

Seeing Tweedle-Dum, Tweedle-Dee, and Boyd all crowded around one another, heads bowed into the circle, like they were praying to whichever God would make Derek’s life Hell, made Derek very, very, not scared per se, but apprehensive.  

“What,” Derek clapped his hands on the shoulders of Isaac and Erica, and nodded toward Boyd, who flashed an answering smile, “are you doing? And should I be worried?”

Erica shrugged off his hand and looked petulant, “Of course not, in fact, I am offended you would even think that.”

Derek turned toward Isaac who was trying very hard not to make eye contact. Derek flashed his teeth in a threatening grin, “Isaac?”

Isaac froze and looked up, “Yes, Derek?”

Derek just raised an eyebrow. Isaac steeled himself, and Derek crossed his arms. Isaac shuffled his feet, glanced at Erica who was staring him down, and shoved his hands in his pockets. Derek’s chin tipped down, braced his feet at shoulder width, and cleared his throat lightly. Isaac’s eyes shot across from where they were meeting Erica’s gaze.

“Well—” Isaac stuttered. 

Erica threw her arms up, “You’ve got to be kidding me!” And Boyd snickered.

Isaac paused, and Derek continued the eye contact.“I got invited to go on a camping trip with Scott and his friends.”

“Since when are you and Scott friends?”

“Since we had to work on that weird parent, bag of flour, and alternative lifestyle assignment for Finstock.”

“But he teaches Economics, not Health.”

 “That’s what made it so weird.”

 “Did you ask mom?” When Derek had discovered that Isaac was being beaten at home by his father, he had told his mother and gone to the Sheriff to report it. Isaac had been taken out of his house and Derek’s family had taken him in. Now, two and a half years later, Isaac had officially been adopted by Derek’s parents. 

**

Stiles put his hand on Derek’s bicep, “That is fucking adorable.”

Derek raised an eyebrow, “What’s so adorable about it”

“Just that you and Isaac call your mom ‘mom.’ He’s your brother.”

“No, he’s my best friend.”

“He’s your brother and your best friend.”

“No—”

Stiles’s hands began flapping like he was imitating a bird, and he began flailing. Derek was surprised that none of his coffee splattered out everywhere. “He’s your Scott, he’s your Scott, he’s your Scott!”

“I have no idea what you are saying.”

Stiles braced his hands on Derek’s shoulders and leaned in. All Derek could see was Stiles’s big brown eyes, framed by thick brown lashes. “Isaac is your Scott.” At Derek’s confused look Stiles sighed. “Scott is my best friend, you know? Been there for everything, broken hearts, lost virginities, familial losses, when I got into colleges, lacrosse tryouts, sexualdiscovery, like three sexual identity crises, etc.” Stiles paused and shifted so his arm was thrown around Derek’s shoulders. “The problem is, he is so much my best friend, that he isn’t my best friend anymore. He’s my brother. We’ve broken arms together, and we’ve been on dates together, we’ve peed in the same toilet at the same time together. We have keys to each other’s houses and know the codes to each others porn folders. We automatically cover for each other when either my dad or his mom asks, and sometimes we watch chick flicks together and cry.” Stiles thumped a fist over his heart, “We are so much more than best friends, we are brothers!” Stiles thrust his fist out, and ended his inspiring speech by wiping a single tear from under his eye.

“Isaac is my best friend.”

Stiles gaped at Derek, and hung his head. Derek took that as a sign to continue. “As I was saying, my parents adopted Isaac.”

**

“Yeah, I talked to your mom.”

“What’s the catch?”

“Well, apparently there won’t be any adult supervision.”

“The problem?”

“She says I have to go with someone she knows really well.”

“She knows Scott, Stiles, Allison, and Lydia."

Isaac paused, panicked and looked at Erica and Boyd. Erica jumped in front of Isaac, “What he meant to say is that he can’t go without you. Or someone as equally as trustworthy.”

“Which explains why you won’t do, but what about Boyd?”

“Apparently when Boyd is with me, it cancels out his responsibility points.” They were all somberly staring at him.

Derek sighed, “This is all bullshit, isn’t it?”

Erica and Isaac started talking over each other:

“What?”

“Noooo!”

“Ridiculous!”

“What on earth would make you think that?”

“I’m hurt!”

 “How crazy!”

 Boyd gave an ever suffering sigh, and clasped his hands over their mouths. “Yes, Derek. It’s all bullshit. Would you like to come camping with us?”

 “Since you asked so nicely Boyd, yes I would like to go camping with you.” Derek smiled and Isaac and Erica crossed their arms like petulant children. 

 “We were gonna ask,” Isaac whined, “but we didn’t think you’d say yes.”

 Derek chuckled and shook his head, “Maybe you should’ve tried asking first.”

 Boyd laughed and Erica rolled her eyes, “You are actually the worst.”

 **

 "Hold up, dude.”

 “Stiles, one of the rules of this ridiculous idea of yours was that there weren’t supposed to be any interruptions.”

 Stiles turned and looked at Derek. “What I think, Derek,” he paused and leaped onto a low wall, by which the two were passing, “is that you don’t realize that I, Stiles Stilinski, am a rule breaker.” He continued walking along the wall, arms stuck out at his side in an imitation of a tight-rope walker. “You, my grumpy friend, are a rule follower.” 

 “I am not a rule follower. And you, Stiles Stilinski, are a not a rule breaker.”

 Stiles, still on the wall, turned to face Derek. He propped his fists against his hips as if he was about to leap off the wall yelling that he was Superman. His brows were furrowed when he said, “Of course, I’m a rule breaker. I’m a rebel, a trendsetter, a bad boy, a maverick, a dissident, a nonconformist, a dissenter, a revolutionary, an insurgent, a mutineer, a freethinker, a free spirit, an individualist, a dissentient, a deviant, and a misfit!” He jumped off the wall and ran circles around Derek yelling, “You can’t pigeonhole me! You can’t force me into a box of your conformist ideals! I will never be free from the winds of change which raise me up to fly high above you and your square ideals! I will never be tied down by you and your frowns of the past! I use my smiles and undeniable charm to cut the strings of youth weighed down by impossible expectations and society’s standards of success!” He turned and leaped, once again, onto the wall. He turned, assuming the same pose as before, fists propped on his hips, proudly proclaiming, “I am Stiles Stilinski, rebel, charmer, free spirit, and all around awesome human being.”

 Derek snorted, turned back to his coffee and said, “Yeah, well whomever you are, remind me to never give you chocolate and coffee this early in the morning. Ever again.”

“But—”

“Ever.”

“That’s—”

“Again.” 

“You—”

 “Never.”

 Stiles opened his mouth again, but Derek put his index finger across Stiles’s mouth, “Shh. It’s okay, I’ll just continue my story now.” Eyes wide open, Stiles stared at Derek, whose finger was still on Stiles’s mouth.

 “Good.”

 **

 Talia was looking at Derek, “You’re going camping.”

 “Yeah, with a group of friends.”

 “You have friends?” Cora called from upstairs.

 “Shut up, Cora!”

 “Der-Der has no friends!”

“Cora!”

“Der-Der has no friends!”

 Derek looked beseechingly at his mother. She sighed, “Cora, that’s enough!”

 There was a silence from Cora’s upstairs bedroom then, “Yes, mother.”

 Talia looked at Derek, raised an eyebrow, and smirked, “Better?” 

 **

 “Oh my God!”

 “What now, Stiles?”

 “That’s where you get it from!”

 “Get what?”

 “The smirk!”

 “What smirk?” 

 “You know what smirk!”

 Derek raised an eyebrow, “Do I?” Then the bastard smirked. Derek ignored Stiles’s muttered “Fucker” and continued his story.

 **

Derek blushed and nodded.

 “Who else is going?”

 “Erica, Boyd, and Isaac. Scott and his friends were going to go and he invited Isaac and told Isaac to invite whomever.”

 Talia looked at Derek, “ISAAC!”

 The blonde boy came tripping and stumbling down the stairs, “Yeah, Mrs. Hale?”

 Talia smiled, “How many time have I told you, call me ‘Talia’ or if you so choose, ‘Mom’ or ‘mother.’ I know I won’t replace your actual mother, but I would like you to think of my as another mother.”

Isaac flushed, “Yes, Talia,” he paused, “mother.” Derek smirked at him and Isaac elbowed him in the ribs. Derek elbowed Isaac back, and soon they were in a brotherly shoving war.

“Boys!” Talia chastised.

The two immediately snapped up, spines straight looking at the floor. “Sorry mother.”

Talia smiled indulgently at the two teenagers, “Have fun camping. Don’t get into too much trouble.”

The two boys looked at each other and smiled. Three weeks later, and just days after their high school graduation, saw the assorted group friends camping in the woods. The campsite was a little off the beaten path, and Derek had had to take his dad’s off-roading truck with Isaac struggling not to get sick in the passenger seat. They were about an hour and a half from Beacon Hills, up in the densely wooded areas of the lower hill region of the surrounding hills.  

By the time they got there, the tents had already been set up. When they had gotten there, Scott had bounded up to Isaac and wrapper him in a bone crushing hug.

 “What took you so long?!”

 Isaac hiked a finger over his shoulder, motioning to Derek who was busy unloading things from the bed of the truck. “Grumpy over there got lost. We had to stop at one of the ranger stations along the way. Then, of course, we got held back even longer because like three of the rangers were flirting with Mr. Hotstuff.”

 Scott snickered, and Stiles came up to join them, “That’s classic.” Stiles shifted to look around Isaac, then called, “Derek! Did you need some help?”

 “It’d be nice!” 

 Stiles clapped his hands together and called over the other guys in the group, Danny, Jackson, and Boyd to help unload the rest of the supplies for the trip. 

 The blue cooler was the heaviest part, and when asked why it was, Derek had rolled his eyes and flipped back the white lid. It was full of bags of ice and drinks, both non-alcoholic and alcoholic drinks.

 “Dude! You brought booze!”

Derek rolled his eyes, “Yes, Scott. I coerced my older cousins to buy us booze.”

 “Dude! You rock!”

 Derek rolled his eyes again, “I figured that we would be in the middle of the woods, we wouldn’t be driving, and we wouldn’t be hurting anyone. We’re all pretty close here and no one is going to take advantage of anyone else. So, what the hell?”

 Stiles patted Derek on the shoulder, “That was a beautiful use of logic, man.” Then he had reached down, snagged a beer and started the drinking.

 By the time dinner was made, hotdogs roasted over the fire pit, everyone had had at least one type of alcoholic drink. No one was drunk, they were just feeling happy and relaxed. Stiles and Scott were slumped next to each other, shoulder to shoulder, singing and swaying slightly. Derek was roasting his third hotdog, and Lydia was picking at what was left of her second one. She had let Jackson make it, because he was that much of a pushy jackass, and then he had burned it. Stiles had laughed at Jackson and Lydia’s furious face. Then he had given her his. She had smiled gratefully and started to eat it, leaving Jackson to eat the burnt one.

After finishing their hotdogs, they sat around the campfire as the flames slowly became glowing embers. Lydia was wrapped up in one of Jackson’s large lacrosse sweatshirts, her face completely clear of make-up. Allison had a hockey blanket for the San Jose Sharks wrapped around her shoulders, the fringe tickling the bones of her ankles. Erica had stolen one of Isaac’s many scarves from around his neck, and a pair of dark gray sweatpants from Boyd’s duffle bag, her hair was tied back into a quick ponytail, and she was drowning in one of her own large sweatshirts from before her leather skirt phase.

From her perch on Scott’s lap, Allison said, “Hey, we should play a game or tell ghost stories.”

Lydia smiled, but it was not a happy sort of smile, one that comes about because a puppy has just tried to eat a flower and realized that it does not especially like the taste of flowers, but a smile that comes from an extremely evil thought, just sliding across the mind. “How about ‘Never Have I Ever’?”

The circle groaned, but Derek was confused, “I’ve never heard of that.”

Stiles squirmed forward to the edge of his seat, “I’ll explain the rules to Mr. Hermit over here. Everyone holds up their ten fingers, and goes around the circle and says something they’ve never done. Like I could say, ‘Never have I ever, gone skinny dipping on the full moon’ and everyone in the circle who _has_ gone skinny dipping on the full moon would have to put a finger down. Last person standing, wins.”

“Sounds simple enough.”

“Yes, but there are _rules.”_

“Like what?”

Scott pointed at Stiles, “Nothing based on gender, and features that we can’t help. It has to be experiences.”

Stiles held his hands up in an attempt to fend off the judgement from around the circle, “Never have I ever been a girl is a perfectly fine one.”

The three girls snorted and threw empty beer cans at Stiles, “No, it’s not.”

Allison raised her hand, “I’ll go first.” She paused, “Never have I ever….. Smoked pot.”

Stiles was the only one who did not have to put a finger down. From across the circle, Stiles aimed an air-five at Allison, who sent one back. 

Next it was Scott’s turn, “Never have I ever had a sexual identity crisis.”

Danny smiled, “I’ve always known I was gay.”

Stiles had to put a finger down, as did Lydia, Jackson, Derek, Isaac, and Erica. 

Everyone stared at Jackson, who looked at everyone and snarled, “What? There was a period of time in the eighth grade where I thought I was gay for Danny. I’m _not,_ but I definitely freaked out about my identity. For like a week.”

Stiles jumped up, “I knew it!” 

Jackson growled and glared in a way that promised payback. 

Next it was Lydia’s turn, “Never have I ever snuck around to date someone behind my parents’ backs.”

Allison and Scott glared at Lydia and put down fingers, but Danny also put one down, as did Isaac, and Stiles.

Jackson smirked at Stiles from where he sat, “Never have I ever given a blow job.”

The girls all glared at Jackson, Lydia even smacked him. Around the circle, fingers began to go down. Allison, Lydia, Erica, were the first, then came the obvious ones, Danny and Stiles because they had dated throughout junior year, but when both Derek and Isaac put a finger down, the group stared. 

Danny cleared his throat and glared at Jackson, “Never have I ever had sex with a woman.” 

Jackson gaped at Danny and put down a finger, Scott blushed and put a finger down, as did Boyd, and Stiles. Jackson stared at Stiles as the finger went down.

“What?” Stiles snapped, “It was Heather’s birthday and neither of us wanted to be virgins.”

Erica smirked and slowly lowered a finger, and eyes everywhere widened. Isaac blushed and lowered a finger as well, but Derek did not lower a finger.

Jackson snorted, “C’mon Hale, you can’t tell me you’re a virgin.”

Derek smirked and raised an eyebrow, “I’m not.”

Jackson stopped smirking and everyone around the circle averted their eyes, blushing furiously. 

Derek smirked as he looked around the campfire, “Never have I ever been the recipient of oral sex.” 

Stiles, who had chosen that moment to take a swig of beer, immediately sputtered it out across the campfire, “What?”

Derek shrugged, “I like giving oral sex more than I like receiving it.”

At that moment, nine pairs of eyes first traced Derek’s lips then dropped down to his lap. Then, one by one fingers dropped around the circle. Because Derek had phrased it in a gender neutral way, neither gender was left out of the round. Everyone put down a finger, and everyone stared at Derek as they did it. 

Next it was Erica’s turn, “Never have I ever been on a lacrosse team.”

Isaac, Boyd, Scott, Stiles, Jackson, and Danny all had to put their fingers down. Everyone stared at Isaac who only had three fingers left, then at Stiles who only had four left. The two glanced at each other and blushed.

Jackson whistled, “For two of the nerdiest guys in the circle, you sure have done a lot.”

Next it was Boyd’s turn who took pity on Isaac and said, “Never have I ever been on the high school swim team.”

Isaac sighed and smiled thankfully at Boyd. Allison, Lydia, Erica, Derek and Jackson all had to put fingers down. 

Then it was Isaac’s turn, “Never have I ever been caught in a comprising position, either by myself or with someone else, by a parent, guardian, or family member.”

Derek grumbled and put a finger down, and Isaac laughed at him. 

“What?” Scott asked.

“Laura walked in on Derek jerking off like two days ago.” Everyone started laughing and Derek flushed bright red, “Laura’s scream echoed through the halls, closely followed by Derek bellowing, ‘Get the fuck out!’ Peter laughed his ass off.”

Derek grumbled, “It had never happened before. Her walking in like that. _She always knocks._ ”

Everyone continued to laugh, slowly putting fingers down. Scott put one down, as did Jackson, Boyd, Erica, and Stiles, who murmured, it actually happens to me a lot. 

Danny flushed and put one down. “That’s how I came out to my parents. Mom, dad, this is Russell. Oh, did I mention I’m gay?” 

Stiles was next and he rubbed his hands together, “Never have I ever gone skinny dipping on the full moon.”

Scott groaned, “It was one fucking time. And you dared me.”

Stiles grinned and cackled maniacally, “It still counts Scotty-boy.”

“You use this against me every time we play this game.”

“That’s because you’re the only one who has ever done it.”

Derek cleared his throat, “Actually, Laura dared me to when I was thirteen.” Then he put a finger down. 

Scott crowed, “Victory, I’m not alone!”

Next it was Allison’s turn and she said, “Never have I ever hooked up in Jungle.”

Stiles and Danny groaned and put fingers down. Derek and Erica joined them, nodding solemnly. 

Scott went after Allison, “Never have I ever made out with a dude.”

Around the circle eyes were rolled and Allison, Lydia, Erica, Stiles, Danny, Derek, and Isaac all put fingers down. Stiles and Erica groaned, they both only had one finger left. Isaac had two fingers left, as did Derek and Danny.

Lydia went next, her simple “Never have I ever had a cat” only getting Boyd and Allison to put fingers down. 

Jackson went next and looked absolutely cackled, “Never have I ever participated in gay butt sex. As either the top or bottom.”

Stiles grabbed his bottle of beer and threw it at Jackson. Because Stiles was just a little more than tipsy the bottle did not actually hit Jackson, but it got him spooked enough to stop grinning and smiling like the evil snake he was. Stiles had to put down his last finger, and just like that he was out. Derek, Danny, and Isaac all had to put fingers down. It was at this point that Stiles declared that Jackson was being passive aggressively homophobic and that everyone should team up to take him down. 

Danny smiled, his dimples turning almost sinister, “Well then, never have I ever been the captain of the lacrosse team.”

Jackson frowned and lowered a finger. Scott beamed at Danny and laughed as he lowered a finger. 

Derek smirked, “Never have I ever dated Lydia Martin.”

Jackson growled as he was the only one to lower a finger. 

Erica was beaming as she went, “Never have I ever had sex with Lydia Martin.”

Jackson had to lower his last finger, growling at everyone. Stiles’ fists pumped the air in victory. 

Jackson growled at Stiles, “You are such a dick.” 

Stiles blinked and fluttered his eyelashes at Jackson, “Oh, I love you too, Jackie dear.”

“Oh my God, I hate you so much.”

Jackson rolled his eyes. 

For Boyd’s turn he looked at Isaac and said, “Never have I ever been claustrophobic.” 

Isaac gasped, “That’s just cold, man.” Erica giggled, and Allison also lowered a finger. 

Allison got stares from people because Allison was not the kind of person to be claustrophobic, and she looked at the circle and said, “When I was about four, I got locked in a trunk during hide-and-seek, and for a couple of years after that I was claustrophobic. It was nothing like Isaac’s, but it still counts.” Then she saw that Isaac was also out of fingers she said, “Never have I ever seen an episode of Doctor Who.”

Stiles gasped, shocked that she had never seen Doctor Who. 

Scott gaped at Allison, “You’re blood thirsty.” 

“Sorry babe, everything is fair in love and war.”

“I’ve only seen it because Stiles made me!”

“It still counts.”

Scott lowered his finger, giving his puppy eyes to his girlfriend. 

Somewhat surprisingly, Boyd lowered a finger and when questioned, just said, “My cousin is a massive Whovian.”

But what was absolutely jaw-dropping shocking was when Lydia lowered a finger. She rolled her eyes and glared at Stiles, “He,” pointing at Stiles, “made me watch it. I was sick, and Jackson was being a dick. I fell asleep halfway through the episode, but I still did see enough of it.”

Next it was Scott’s turn. He stared at Derek, then Erica, then Boyd, then Allison and Lydia, and said, “Never have I ever worn a leather jacket.”

Stiles cackled as they all lowered their fingers. 

Lydia looked around the circle, “Never have I ever dated Scott McCall.”

Allison stared at Lydia, “That was a little specific.” Then she lowered a finger. Allison, Scott, and Danny all had one finger left, whereas Lydia and Boyd had two fingers left. 

Danny looked around the circle before stopping his gaze on Lydia, “Never have I ever kissed Jackson Whittemore.”

Lydia threw up a middle finger, then she had only one finger left. 

Boyd was next, and he rubbed his hands together. “Never have I ever…. kissed Stiles Stilinski.”

The circle gasped and just like that, Boyd had won. 

Allison looked mortified, “We were playing Spin the Bottle, in like freshman year. We just kissed really lightly across the lips.”

Scott flushed, “We were stupid and curious. We were like, ten!”

Lydia glared at Stiles, “He was having a panic attack and I was trying to get him to regulate his breathing.”

Danny shrugged, “He’s just really good at kissing. Also, dancing.” Then he turned to wink at Stiles, who promptly blushed. 

Stiles cackled and applauded, “Now that we know far too much about each other, should we play Truth or Dare or a drinking game?”

Derek looked at him, “How about we all go to bed. It’s like one in the morning.”

The group chorused, “We agree with Derek.”

Derek, Isaac, and Boyd were going into one tent. Lydia, Allison, and Erica were going into another. Stiles and Scott called claim on another tent. And Danny and Jackson headed off to another one. One by one the lanterns in each of the tents went off, and choruses of “Good night” were heard, until nothing but the dulcet tones of Jackson’s snoring were echoing through the campsite.

**

While Derek had been telling his incredibly long winded story about the camping trip that the both of them were there to remember, he and Stiles had been going on a little walk; first around the campus of their college and then, when they had circled everything and thrown away their empty cups of coffee, they moved to the surrounding streets. Now, however, they were back at the front of the school, and both were hungry. 

“D’you want to get some lunch at the dining hall?” Stiles asked, pointing to the long building to their right. 

“Sure,” Derek smiled, “I can continue the story there.”

“Is it not done yet?”

“Have you stolen my hat yet?”

Stiles grumbled and the two walked through the turn styles at the entrance of the cafeteria. They walked through the dining hall, looking at the uninspired weekend food. 

Stiles groaned, “Is it me or does the food on the weekend suck especially much?”

“It sucks.”

“Hey,” Stilespaused and bit his lip, “you could come over to my place, it’s a couple blocks away and it has a full kitchen. I could make lunch, and we could tell stories.”

Derek shrugged, “Sounds better than anything they’re offering here.”

Stiles pumped his fists into the air, “Victory!”

Derek snorted, “Yes, Stiles, the promise of your cooking beat out teriyaki tofu, soy burgers, and sandwiches. Be proud.”

“Shut up.” Stiles scratched at his nose with his middle finger, then continued, “Finish your story. I’d like to hear about the infamous hat stealing before I die of old age.”

**

The next morning and the first full day of camping began with Derek waking up first. So, like any normal person, he went for a little walk. He left a note, saying that he had his phone and that he’d probably be back by 9:15 a.m. He set off down a path and followed it, meandering through some woods, up a little hill, then he heard the sound of running water. Curious, he followed the sound. He had to leave the path, but he was not worried about getting lost or running into animals, the hills and camping grounds were safe. Eventually he found a small river, with little ponds, in between rocks, water flowing from one pool to the next. He leaned down and put a hand in one, and the water was crisp and cool, perfect for swimming in on a hot June day. 

He smiled and to no one in particular said, “I know what we’re going to do today.”

He made his way back to the camp and when he got there, he saw that everyone was getting up. Stiles looked a little bleary eyed and hungover, but that was because he was a lightweight. A lightweight who had had three and a half beers the night before. Like an idiot. 

When the group sat down for bagels and cream cheese, they decided that finishing the camp’s set up, with games and that sort of thing, was best to do in the morning. Lydia pulled a game of horseshoes out of her car and Stiles pulled a volleyball net out of the back of his jeep. With everyone working together to get the net set up, it did not take them long to get it up and operational. 

After getting the camp completely set up, they broke up into two teams, five and five and hit the ball around the new volleyball court. Lydia, Allison, Jackson, Scott, and Danny were on one team, with Isaac, Erica, Boyd, Derek, and Stiles on the other. The game had started out as fun and easy, just friends hitting the ball back and forth but it quickly escalated to Stiles and Jackson trying as hard as they could to hit the other with the ball. At one point Stiles even grabbed the ball out of Derek’s hand while he had been trying to serve it, run under the net, to throw it directly in Jackson’s face. Which turned into Jackson tackling Stiles to the ground, forcing everyone to run over and pull Jackson off of Stiles.

 Lydia, frazzled with dirt in her hair from being pushed over more than once, stamped her foot down, narrowly missing Jackson’s fingers, and said, “That is it, no more volleyball.” Then she spun on her heel and stomped away muttering under her breath about pathetic children. 

Derek looked at Stiles and Jackson, both of whom were covered in dirt and glaring at each other, and proclaimed loudly, “I found a river with pools earlier. We should go swimming.”

The girls had brightened up, and the guys had whooped and hollered, and they all ran to their tents and to the bathrooms to change. Derek led the group to the pools of water, and when they got there they immediately split into separate areas of the pool. 

Lydia, Erica, and Allison wanted to have some girl time, to they laid out on the rocks surrounding one of the larger, but shallower pools. Erica was in a black bikini decorated with rhinestones that flashed in the late morning and early afternoon sun. Lydia was wearing an emerald green bikini, all scalloped edges, bright jewel tones, and pale skin. Allison was wearing a plum colored bikini that had dark gray detailing. They were each on their backs, sunglasses on, murmuring in low tones to one another, quieting as any one of the guys approached. 

Upon arriving at the pool, Jackson, Danny, and Scott all immediately pulled off their shirts. Danny was wearing a simple pair of black board shorts, Scott was wearing a pair of dark, navy blue board shorts, and Jackson was wearing a simply ridiculous pair of white and blue hawaiian flower patterned board shorts. Whereas Danny’s and Scott’s board shorts fell to just below their knees, fitting slightly low on the waist, Jackson’s shorts were as Lydia proclaimed them, ‘punishment shorts.’ Thus they were cut at about mid thigh, loose and baggy, and tied tight around the waist to keep them from falling off. 

Boyd and Isaac were sitting in a pool together, talking about classes and school plans, and just life. Isaac was wearing a pair of dark forest green board shorts, and Boyd was wearing a pair of pale yellow board shorts that would have looked absolutely hideous on anyone else. They had stripped off their shirts, but had not made nearly as much fuss about it as Danny, Jackson, and Scott. 

Stiles was reluctant to take off his shirt, but eventually sighed and whipped it off in one smooth motion. His pair of board shorts was a brain hurting combination of colors, all arranged in a plaid design. Of course it was plaid. The plaid was made up of hundreds of thin lines, ranging from all shades. There were neon greens, and pastel yellows, bright reds and pale purples. Both complimenting and contrasting colors linked and crossing over each other. Every color you could imagine, and a couple you wouldn’t even think of were on those board shorts, and God were they hideous. But, Stiles pranced and danced around in them as if they were made for him, and to think about it, they probably were. They were, in fact, the only kind of board shorts that even made sense for him to wear. 

Stiles was splashing around by himself in one of the deeper pools, randomly splashing various members of the group with water. Except Lydia, he avoided spraying Lydia. He would position his hands just so, right at the surface of the water, flick his wrists and a jet of water would shoot toward his target. The third time he sprayed Erica she got up off her rock, marched over, and pushed his head under the water. He flailed for approximately three seconds before she let him up, his face red and a smile beaming across his face. His favorite target, however, was Jackson, who was never paying quite enough attention to see when Stiles was approaching.

Derek watched the madness from his perch high up on a rock. He was the only one who still had his shirt on, and when Lydia realized it she called, “Derek, you getting body shy on us?”

Stiles had joined in yelling, “Yeah Derek! I took off my shirt!” 

Derek rolled his eyes, stood up and slid his white tank top off. He was catcalled as he did it, Erica shouting, “Look at those abs, and those biceps!” 

Isaac giggled, “Show off that back!”

Boyd had bellowed, “DAT ASS!” Which caused everyone to nearly collapse into giggles. 

Stiles’s response was to, of course, position himself and spray him with a little jet of water. Which hit him. In the face.

Derek growled, and charged at Stiles, who yelped and began scrambling back as quickly as he could in a pool of water. Derek charged through the water, and Stiles was yelping, calling to Derek to have mercy on his soul. Because Stiles was in one of the deepest pools, Derek ended up swimming to catch Stiles, but when he had caught Stiles, he hoisted him up on one shoulder, Stiles babbling, head and torso hanging over Derek’s back.

“Hey, now, you’re not a caveman.”

“Derek, put me down.”

“DEREK!” Stiles began squirming and Derek jostled him on his shoulder.

When Derek got to the edge of the pool, he turned to face the entirety of the pool and their friends, staring at them. He whipped Stiles around so that he had Stiles in his arms in a bridal carry. Stiles’ shoulders in one arm, and his legs in another. 

Derek looked down at Stiles, and said, “You want me to put you down?” Stiles nodded, his gaze fixed on Derek’s. “Okay,” Derek said, his mouth twitching up into a full fledged smile. Then he threw Stiles into the pool. 

Stiles sailed through the air, “DERREEEK!”

The splash of Stiles hitting the water was music to Derek’s ears, and he threw his head back and laughed. Stiles surfaced, spluttering, “You are _such_ an asshole.”

Jackson called out from where he was sitting with Danny and Scott, “Face it Stilinski, he got you at your own game.”

Stiles called back at Jackson, “You’re lazy, just sitting there! Come join us!” With that the friends all looked at each other, shrugged and ran over to the pool to join Stiles and Derek. 

Derek climbed out of the water to get his camera. 

“Hey, Hale,” Jackson called, “where’re you going?”

“Grab my camera!” Derek positioned his hands on his hips, and glanced down to see his dark red board shorts had fallen down to ride on the edge of his hipbones. The material was all bunched around his mid thigh area, and he tugged the red material so it went down to his knees again. Derek walked to the rock where he had been positioned previously, grabbed his camera and hustled back to the pool where everyone was splashing each other. He stood on a rock overlooking the entire group and yelled, “Say cheese!” Everyone turned to look at him, and he snapped the picture. Then he put the camera down and went to join his friends. 

They stayed at the pool until two p.m. when it was decided that everyone was hungry for lunch. They made sandwiches and made jokes around the picnic tables set up around the campsite. It was a flurry of mustard and lunch meat, but it was full of laughter and smiles, even Jackson and Stiles were getting along somewhat. It was a perfect day. 

About an hour later, Lydia grabbed Stiles, Allison, Erica, and Boyd, and proclaimed that they all wanted to go on a hike. “It won’t take long,” she said, “we’ll be back in like two hours, just in time for dinner. We all have our phones.” 

She gave them just enough time for her chosen four to put on sunscreen, appropriate hiking gear, water, and hats. Stiles had forgotten to bring a hat, but everyone else who had one was going on the hike with Lydia. Except for Derek. 

“Hey, whose hat is this?” 

Derek looked over and recognized the purple and orange monstrosity, “It’s mine.”

“Really?”

Derek frowned, “Yes, really.”

“Well can I borrow it for the hike?” 

Derek shrugged, “Go ahead.”

Stiles beamed, “Awesome, dude.”

With that he strolled away to catch up with his hiking group, waiting patiently for him. They five that were left behind just sat around for a bit, then Scott and Isaac challenged Jackson and Danny to a quick game of volleyball. Derek would act as he referee. Danny and Isaac balanced out the overly competitive spirit of Jackson and Scott, and Derek kept everyone from being too violent with each other, all in all it worked fairly well. Then Derek got a phone call.

Derek put the game on time out and ran over to his phone, it was Laura.He answered the phone and immediately heard his older sister’s slightly hysterical voice. 

“Derek, there’s been a fire.”

Derek paled, “What?” 

“I think everyone is fine, but could you, do you think you could…. I know you’re out with your friends. Everyone is so excited that you finally have a social life, but—”

“Of course I can, Laur. Don’t worry about it.” Derek hung up and began packing up his things.

“Der, what’s wrong?” Isaac came up behind Derek. 

“There’s been a fire at the house.”

Isaac gasped, and Scott, Danny, and Jackson came over. 

“Everyone is fine, but I have to go. Make sure that everything is okay, help my family start to recover.” 

Scott came forward, “Of course it’s okay, you guys, go. We’ll tell everyone what happened.”

Derek shook his head, “Just say it’s a family emergency, I don’t want to make anyone worry.” Isaac nodded his agreement.

Derek and Isaac packed their duffles, and left the supplies they had brought behind, Derek turned to Scott, “Don’t forget to remind Stiles that he has my hat. He’ll probably forget.”

Danny came forward, “I’ll make sure it gets back to you.”

Derek smiled, “Thanks, see you guys around.”

Isaac gave them all hugs, well except for Jackson who got a slap on the back and a hand-shake, “Thanks for inviting us, we had a good time.”

Then Derek and Isaac got into their car and drove back to the Hale house to pick up the pieces. 

**

“So everything was fine?” Stiles was sitting on a bar stool around the island in his kitchen.

“Yeah,” Derek ran a hand through his hair, “it was just a couple of rooms in the downstairs. The guest room, kitchen, living room, some of the stairs.” He chuckled to himself, “A couple of the stairs were unsafe for a while, so to get upstairs and downstairs we had to jump over them. The young kids ended up making a game out of it.” 

Stiles laughed, “Is that where your habit of avoiding stairs comes from?”

Derek glowered at Stiles and tried to hold back the smile, “Ha. Ha. Ha. You are _so_ funny Stiles.”

Stiles smiled and continued puttering around the kitchen. “What did you want to drink?”

“Oh, water is fine for me.” Derek went to get up, “I can get it, it’s fine.”

Stiles shooed him away, “Nonsense, I’ll get it.” Then he got out two glasses, then he opened the refrigerator and pulled out a massive jug of grape juice and placed it right next to the stove, near the edge of the counter. At Derek’s pointed look, Stiles flushed lightly and said, “What? I like juice.”

Stiles opened the lid to pour the juice when the timer for whatever was in the oven went off. Stiles turned, “The lasagna! I have to take it out right now or else it will get too crispy.”

He opened the oven door, and stumbled with the lasagna slightly. “Shit, hold on.” 

Derek was up and across the kitchen quickly, “Let me help.”

“No, no, I got it.” Stiles put the lasagna safely onto the stove, then he spun around. 

Derek, however, was right behind him and Stiles ended up spinning right into Derek’s chest. Instinctively, Stiles shifted backward but he became unbalanced. Derek reached forward and grabbed Stiles by the hips and pulled him in. Now Stiles was nearly plastered to Derek’s chest. Derek was looking down at Stiles, who was looking up at him. For just a second, their breaths stuttered, and Stiles’s head crooked to the side. 

“HEY BUDDY!” Scott slammed open the side door that led straight to the kitchen. “OH SHIT!”

“SCOTT!” Stiles startled and started flailing. His arms rotated in large windmill motions, first causing his right elbow to slam into Derek’s stomach, then his left elbow into Derek’s chin, and then finally, his right elbow slammed into the bottom of the jug of grape juice. Derek’s eyes widened, and he stepped forward to catch it, but ended up spilling the entire jug of grape juice all over his navy blue t-shirt and jeans. 

Stiles spun around as he heard the crash of empty jug on the linoleum floor, and saw Derek covered in the dark purple juice. “Oh no.” Stiles worried his bottom lip. “Well, we have a washer and dryer here, I can wash your things for you. You can just walk around in your boxers, unless those got wet too, in which case I’m sure Scott has sweatpants or boxers for you to borrow. Anything I have for me is probably too small.” Stiles turned to Scott, who was still staring at the two of them, with a look that was definitely a save-me-please kind of look. “Right, Scott?”

“Yeah. Right.” Scott smiled, just as he was trained to.

Which left Derek in the completely horrible pickle of trying to explain to Scott McCall and Stiles Stilinski that no, his boxers were not soaked through with grape juice _because he was not wearing any._  

“Um,” Derek began, “how about I take a shower, because I’m all sticky because of the juice, and I’ll give you my clothes. I can borrow some of Scott’s clothes and then we can forget this ever happened.” 

Stiles flushed and nodded, “Yeah.”

Derek nodded stiffly, then turned to look at Stiles, “And while we’re waiting for my laundry, you can tell me your side of the day you actually stole my hat.”

“I didn’t steal it! I borrowed it!

“You still have it. Borrowing implies an intention to return it.”

Stiles grumbled under his breath, “I’m gonna return it.”

Derek smiled, “I look forward to it.” Then he made his way to the bathroom, where he stripped off his grape juice covered clothes, just a shirt then a pair of jeans, and left them outside the bathroom door, for Dumb and Dumber to wash. This way he did not have to tell them that he was going commando, but they could simply infer and make their decisions accordingly. He looked at his phone, sitting on the counter, then he reached over to type out a text to Isaac. 

_ To: Too Snarky to be a Puppy _

Do you know the name and password to my porn folder?

 

_ From: Too Snarky to be a Puppy _

.........Ewwwww.... NO! Why would you ask that?

 

_To: Too Snarky to be a Puppy_

Just something that Stiles said.

 

_From: Too Snarky to be a Puppy_

About brotherhood and him and Scott?

 

_To: Too Snarky to be a Puppy_

.... Yeah.... Maybe

 

_From: Too Snarky to be a Puppy_

Dude, those two are weird. No brothers actually know porn folders and passwords.

 

_To: Too Snarky to be a Puppy_

You're right. But who is going to delete my porn folder if I die too young?

 

_From: Too Snarky to be a Puppy_

........ If I die young, delete the folder in the 'Random Shit' folder on my desktop called, 'Reaction Gifs from Facebook'

 

_To: Too Snarky to be a Puppy_

.......... If I die young delete the folder in the 'Work from Freshman Year' folder called, 'Psyche 101'

 

_From: Too Snarky to be a Puppy_

You got it, brother.

 

Then Derek smiled, put his phone down, and stepped to get into the shower.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again, little baby interlude shot from Stiles's point of view, just for being awesome, everyone! 
> 
> Thank you to everyone showing your support for this fic, your love keeps me going! 
> 
> (Also, did anyone see the reference to the San Jose Sharks? I do like to reference my own fics, which is probably a little narcissistic but, fuck it.)


	8. Stiles' Second Interlude a.k.a. Stiles Asks the Important Questions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Don't say that Stiles doesn't ask important questions, because he does. "Was Derek going commando all day?" is a very important question. It might not be important to Scott, but Scott still hasn't seen Star Wars. Can Scott really be expected to judge importance correctly? No. The answer to that question is no. (The answer to the other question is a big, definite, yes.)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again, I'm not counting this one as a chapter. Just a little interlude. I'm still working on the actual chapter. Sorry, I got an actual job and I just haven't had as much time to work on it. Definitely by tomorrow though. 
> 
> I might be giving you a Stiles interlude so that you have a little something to read.

Stiles stood outside his bathroom door, staring at a seemingly innocuous pile of clothes. The pile of clothes, however, was not harmless, because it was Derek’s pile of clothes. Derek Hale’s pile of clothes was sitting outside Stiles’ bathroom door. Stiles’ bathroom door was closed behind a pile of clothes. That belonged to Derek Hale. Who was inside Stiles’ bathroom. Without clothes. Because his clothes were in a pile. Outside of Stiles’ bathroom. 

“Why’re you just staring at the clothes?

“Because, Scott, they’re outside the bathroom.” 

“Well if you move them, they won’t be.”

“That isn’t the point, Scott.”

“What's the point then?”

“Oh Scott,” sighed Stiles, slinging his arms around Scott’s shoulders, “poor, naive, simple, Scott. If Derek’s clothes are _outside_ the bathroom, but he is _inside_ the bathroom, what does that mean?”

“That he wants us to wash his clothes?”

“No! Well, yes, but it also means that Derek Hale is naked in our bathroom.”

“Which would make sense. Considering you told him to use our shower after you spilled juice all over him."

Stiles waved his hand in Scott’s general direction and continued staring at the pile of clothes outside the bathroom, “Semantics, Scott, semantics.”

Scott sighed and hit Stiles on the back of his head, a trick he had learned from the Sheriff, “Just go wash his clothes. I’ll clean up the puddle of grape juice in the kitchen.”

Stiles nodded and finally picked up the pile of clothes outside the bathroom door. _I am carrying a pile of Derek Hale’s clothes. In my hands are a pile of clothes that belong to Derek Hale. Because Derek Hale is taking a shower. My shower is currently showering Derek Hale._ Stiles arrived at the washing machine and threw the items of clothing in. Shirt, pants, sock one, sock two. Stiles paused, looked over the things in the washing machine. Shirt. Jeans. Sock one. Sock two. Stiles’ eyes went round and he began to flail. 

He turned and ran into the kitchen, “Scott, Scott, Scott, Scott, Scott!”

Scott poked his head up from where he was scrubbing the puddle of grape juice with a sponge, “Yeah?” 

“There’re no boxers or briefs or any combination thereof in Derek Hale’s pile of clothing.”

Scott cocked his head, “And?”

“Scott, Derek Hale has been going commando all day.”

“Or he didn’t want to wear my boxers.”

“Or he wasn’t wearing any.”

“Or his boxers didn’t get wet.”

“Scott, I don’t think you understand, Derek Hale has been going commando all day long.”

Scott sighed and began to respond, “Stiles—” but Stiles interrupted him.

“I have to run an experiment and get to the bottom of this.” 

“Whatever you do, don’t ask him.”

Stiles scoffed, “Of course I won’t. Did you think I would do this the easy way?”

Scott smiled and shook his head, “Of course not.”

Stiles beamed, “Good.” Then he clasped his hands together and cackled in maniacal glee. 

Stiles grabbed the clothes he said he would, a pair of Scott’s sweatpants, one of Stiles’ shirts—old of course, Stiles wasn’t about to pass up a golden opportunity to ogle Derek in a tight t-shirt—and a pair of Scott’s boxers. Stiles stood back and patiently waited for the bathroom door to open and for Derek to grab the clothes. Stiles was standing, plastered against a wall of the hallway just outside the bathroom, when he heard the bathroom door open and close quickly. Stiles turned his head around the corner and saw that the pile of clothes was gone.

“Scott,” he hissed, “he took the bait.”

“Stiles,” Scott hissed back, “you’re being creepy.”

Stiles flipped Scott off and ran into the living room, flopping down on a chair and grabbing a magazine. "Act natural," he hisse  acting as nonchalant as he could while still flailing and being Stiles.

"I'm reading."

Stiles saw the moment and put on a bad English accent, "I didn't know you could read." 

Stiles snickered, while Scott just looked bewildered, "Of course I can read. I'm not an idiot."

Stiles stared, mouth open, "Have you not seen Harry Potter?"

Just then, Derek appeared and saved Scott from having to answer that question. His hair was spiked up and wet, leaving trails of water to run down his neck. Stiles briefly contemplated running his tongue along the same paths of the water droplets, but eventually decided against jumping Derek. 

Derek crossed his arms in the blue and orange striped shirt that Stiles had dug from deep inside his drawers, “Stiles, this doesn’t fit.”

Stiles shrugged, “Sorry, I don’t have any clean shirts left. I also have to do laundry.”

Scott snorted from his place on the couch where he was reading a play for his English class. 

Stiles got up from his place on the couch, “Lemme go see if I have anymore shirts for you to try.”

As he passed the bathroom, Stiles poked his head in. He glanced around the room. No boxers. 

Derek was wearing Scott’s boxers, which meant that Derek hadn’t put his own boxers back on, but he also hadn’t given Stiles any underwear to wash. Derek had been going commando. Derek Hale went commando sometimes. Going commando was something Derek Hale did. Derek Hale does not always wear underwear, but when he does he still looks fucking hot as hell because he’s Derek Hale. Stiles walked to his room in a daze and grabbed an even smaller shirt from even further back in his drawer. 

He made his way back to the living room and threw it at Derek, “Try this on for size.”

Derek pulled at the seam of the shirt with his hands, “Stiles, no fit.”

Stiles shrugged his shoulders, and Derek rolled his eyes. Scott looked at Stiles and raised an eyebrow.

Stiles leered and mouthed, “He took your underwear.”

Scott’s eyes widened and Stiles smirked. Scott mouthed back, “He was going commando?”

Stiles nodded. _Now,_ Stiles thought, _the real question is, was Derek going to kiss me right before Scott walked in?_


	9. Sometimes Derek Makes Sex Jokes and Sometimes Stiles Gets Serious a.k.a. Scott Really Hates Camping

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Derek and Stiles eat some lasagna, Derek tells a sex joke, and Stiles tells two stories. One about camping, and one about the person he never talks about, his mother.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I'm not gonna lie, this chapter totally got away from me, after it caused me major issues, but I think it turned out okay. I don't know how it transformed into them talking about emotional things, but it did, so whatever deal with it.
> 
> Also, I have a job now, yippee! While this means that I am making money this summer and not sitting at home being a lump, it also means that I won't be able to update until either Wednesday afternoon/evening. 
> 
> I'm trying my hardest to update regularly on Wednesdays, but as the Supernatural fandom would say, "Writing is hard." And this chapter especially would not come out.
> 
> As always, comments, kudos, bookmarks are very much appreciated and give Stiles more hugs. I just feel like he needs more hugs.

Things between Derek and Scott were awkward. Stiles was gone, hopefully getting a bigger shirt for Derek, and Derek had nothing to say to Scott. 

“What’re you reading?”

“A play.” Scott didn’t even look up.

“Which play?” Derek shuffled his weight from foot to foot, “I’m an English major, I might’ve read it.”

“Yeah?” That caused Scott to look up and be interested. “It’s _In The Next Room_ by Sarah Ruhl. Have you read it?” 

Derek smiled, “The piano is a metaphor.”

“For what?” 

“Generally, female genitalia. Specifically, the clitoris.”

Scott’s eyes widened, “Seriously?”

Derek sat on the armrest next to Scott, “It’s a play about a group of sexually repressed women and one of the women actually says, ‘I just pick at it with one or two fingers, it’s hardly been used, you must play it. The poor thing is _languishing_ without a human touch. It is like a piece of dead wood without being played.’”

“Holy shit.”

“I know.” Derek nodded seriously.

“Holy shit.” 

Derek just nodded, “I told Laura that it was on the syllabus for one of my classes and she looked me straight in the eye and said, ‘The piano is a metaphor for the clitoris.’ I was so confused until I read the play. When I got to the part I texted her the message, ‘The piano is a metaphor for the clitoris.’”

Scott began laughing, “Seriously, that’s awesome! I wish I had an older sister.”

Derek shook his head and smiled ruefully at Scott, “No, you don’t.”

Stiles came waltzing in and began making eyebrows and faces at Scott. They were mouthing words at each other, but Derek was helpless at reading lips so he just ignored the blatant conversation that was happening between the two friends. Derek’s stomach grumbled loudly, and Stiles and Scott looked over at him; he blushed.

Stiles clapped his hands together, “How ‘bout eating that lasagna?”

Derek looked at Stiles gratefully until he remembered the blue and orange striped monstrosity Stiles had forced on him. His smile dropped into a scowl and he crossed his arms over his chest. Which, bizarrely, caused Stiles’ smile to widen even more than it had already been. Derek couldn’t help but think question his taste in men.

Scott cleared his throat “Did we want to eat, or were you guys going to keep staring at each other?”

Stiles flushed, and his eyes darted from Scott, to Derek, to Scott again. He shifted his weight and he clapped his hands together. The smack of his hands coming together ricocheted through the awkward silence. 

Stiles made eyes at Scott, “Buddy, did you have something to do?”

“No.”

“Are you sure?” Stiles was staring at Scott, but Derek was focusing on the lasagna.

“No?” Scott raised an eyebrow at Stiles. 

Derek turned to look at the Dumb and Dumber, “Can we eat?"

Stiles smiled, “One track mind, eh?”

Derek stared at Stiles blankly. Scott stood up from the couch and grabbed his backpack from the end of the couch, “Well, I’m gonna go.”

Derek turned his gaze onto Scott, “I thought you didn’t have anything to do.”

Stiles’ eyes widened, “No, he remembered he had something to do.”

Scott nodded and pointed at Stiles, “Yeah, that.”

“What?” Derek asked.

Scott and Stiles looked at each other, “What?”

Derek nodded at looked at the two, “Yeah, what?”

Scott and Stiles looked at each other, “Uhhhhh,” Scott stuttered, “stuff.”

Stiles smacked Scott on the back, “Allison stuff.”

“Yeah, Allison stuff,” repeated Scott.

Derek smirked, “Well, have fun. With Allison stuff.”

Scott blushed, “See you guys later.”

Stiles waved then headed to the kitchen, “See ya Scott!”

Derek watched as Scott out the back door, “Hey, Scott,” Derek called.

Scott turned around in the doorway, “Yeah, Derek?”

“Remember, it’s just like a piano. Can’t let it languish there,” then he winked.

Scott stared at Derek, puzzled for a second, then he blushed bright red. He coughed, and stuttered, “Did you just,” Scott paused, and began laughing so hard tears started streaming down his face. He hunched over and leaned against the doorjamb.

Stiles came rushing in when Scott began pounding on the wall with a fist. “What?” Stiles demanded.

“D-D-D-D-D-Derek,” Scott began stuttering then gave up, “h-h-h-he just,” he took a deep breath then started laughing again, “you missed it,” Scott gave up trying to tell Stiles and just gestured at Derek to tell Stiles. 

Derek scowled and crossed his arms across his chest, “It wasn’t even that funny.”

Stiles bounced up and down on his heels and clapped his hands excitedly, “Come on, come on, tell me, tell me, tell me, tell me, tell me!”

Derek huffed and rolled his eyes, “I made a sex joke.”

Stiles’ jaw dropped, “You’re shitting me.”

Derek rolled his eyes again, “No, I’m not shitting you Stiles. Contrary to what you might believe, I do have a sense of humor.”

Scott had finally gotten control of his laughter, “Pushing Isaac down a hill then laughing when his face lands in a mud puddle is not a sense of humor.” 

Derek stared at Scott blankly, “That’ exactly what it is.”

Stiles clapped him on the back, “No it isn’t.”

Derek scowled at Stiles, “Then why was it considered your sense of humor when you did the same to Jackson?”

Stiles and Scott nodded solemnly and said together, “Because it was Jackson.”

Derek rolled his eyes at Dumb and Dumber, “Whatever,” he pointed at Scott, “don’t you have Allison stuff to go to?” then he pointed at Stiles, “and you have lasagna that you still have to serve me.”

Stiles waved at Scott again, “See ya, buddy.”

Derek turned to Scott, “See you around Scott.”

“Bye,” Scott turned and was out the door.

Derek turned and went back to the kitchen to join Stiles for lasagna. “Now you have to tell me your side of the story.”

“The camping story? Do I have to tell the whole thing, or can I just skip to when you left?”

Derek shrugged, “Do whatever you want.” He settled himself on a stool at the kitchen island.

Stiles served up two big hunks of lasagna and set one in front of Derek on the kitchen island. He settled himself onto a stool across from Derek. He forked a big bite of the lasagna into his mouth, he chewed, considered for a second, then glared at the lasagna.

“What’s wrong with it?” Derek forked a large bite of lasagna into his mouth as well. He chewed, considered the taste, and said, “Tastes fine to me.”

Stiles frowned, “That’s just it. It’s fine. I can never get the recipe right.” He stabbed his piece with his fork, “It’s my mom’s recipe, and no matter how many times I make it, it never tastes exactly like hers.”

Derek picked up the stained and folded index card on the counter, “This it?”

Stiles nodded, still stabbing his piece of lasagna. 

Derek considered the old index card for a moment, the handwriting was done in blue pen. In some areas the blue pen was smeared or it was fading completely. Derek smiled when he saw the title, "Soulmate Lasagna, huh?”

Stiles flushed slightly, “It’s a kind of Stilinski family myth.”

Derek nudged Stiles’ forearm, stretched around his plate, “Come on, tell me.”

Stiles smiled and stopped stabbing his lasagna, “My nana and mom always told me that it tastes better with your soulmate.”

Derek snorted.

“Hey!” Stiles sat up, “I’ll have you know, that’s how it has worked for centuries before me and that’s how it’ll work centuries after me!”

Derek rolled his eyes, “So tell me the camping story.”

Stiles beamed at Derek, clapped his hands together, and rubbed them together, “So Scott and I really wanted to celebrate the end of senior year in a great way…”

**

“We should cover the school in fireworks and shoot them off when Finstock least expects it.”

Scott sighed, “Stiles, this isn’t a John Green novel.”

Allison skipped up, “What’re you guys doing?”

Scott slung an arm over her shoulder, “Trying to figure out what we want to do for the end of senior year.”

“How about we go camping?” Allison looked up at Scott.

Scott’s mouth stretched into a wide smile, “That sounds like a great idea.”

Ah Scott, what an adorable puppy, “I don’t know. I don’t think everyone’ll have a good time.”

Allison’s face fell, and Scott copied her frown, clutching her closer, “What do you mean? That’s a great idea! It’s brilliant!” Allison began beaming again.

“Scott,” Stiles began, “you hate camping.”

Scott gasped, “What are you talking about? I love camping.” He clutched Allison closer to his shoulder. 

Stiles rolled his eyes, “Fine, we’ll go camping. Personally, I love camping.”

Allison beamed and leaned up to kiss Scott on the cheek. Then she reached and wrapped Stiles in a hug, “I’m so excited, I love camping.” She gave Scott one last kiss on the cheek and went to her next class. 

Scott sighed, watching her go. Stiles clapped her on the back, “Buddy, you hate camping.”

Scott sighed, “I know.”

“You hate the woods, and tents, and bugs, and any wildlife, and camping food, and s’mores, and campfires.”

Scott groaned, “I know!”

Stiles smirked at him, “So why did you say you want to go camping?”

Scott buried his face in his hands and muttered into his palms. 

Stiles cupped a hand around his ear and leaned in, “What was that?”

Scott mumbled into his hands again.

Stiles leaned in even further, “I’m sorry, I still didn’t hear that.”

Scott mumbled again, but this time Stiles actually heard him. Then, just to be a shit, Stiles leaned in again, “One more time for me there, buddy.”

Scott pulled his face from his hands, “Because it was Allison.”

Stiles laughed, “You are so fucked.”

Scott groaned and pushed Stiles, who stumbled, “You’re such a dick.” Stiles just cackled at him the rest of the way to their class.

**

“So he really hates camping?”

“He really hates camping.”

“Does Allison know?”

“He refuses to tell her that he hates camping.”

Derek smiled, “How many times a year do they go?”

“At least two or three.”

Derek had to put down his fork to laugh at Scott's predicament.

“So,” Stiles continued, “fast forward to when we got back from the hike.”

**

When the five of them returned from the hike, they were surprised to find that there were two people missing. 

 Allison walked up to Scott and hugged him from behind, “Where did Derek and Isaac go?”

 “Oh, um, I think they had family issues.” He frowned, “I can’t really remember.”

Erica and Boyd approached the couple, “Is everything okay?” Erica chewed on her lip, “Should we go? Everyone is okay right?”

Scott scratched his head, “I think Derek said something about a fire.”

Everyone gasped and huddled around. They began talking all at once:

“Is everyone okay”

“What happened?”

“Is anyone hurt?”

“How’re his sisters?”

“Was anything damaged?”

“How did it start?”

“How serious was it?”

Erica pulled out her phone and dialed Derek’s number, but it went to voicemail. Erica turned toward Boyd, chewing on her lip, and staring at her phone. “He isn’t picking up.” She dialed Isaac. “Neither is Isaac.” She tried dialing Derek again, there was still no answer, “Boyd, no one is picking up.” 

Boyd sighed and curled his hands around Erica’s hands that were still clutching her phone, he ducked down and looked her in the eyes, “Derek is probably driving, Isaac sucks at picking up his phone. Everything is probably okay. If something was seriously wrong they would have called us,” he smiled at her, “We’re practically honorary Hales.”

Erica let out one long calming breath and nodded her head, “You’re right.” She smiled hesitantly at Boyd and wrapped her arms around his waist. He folded himself around her and returned the hug. 

Allison, Stiles, and Lydia were still grilling Scott trying to figure out exactly what Derek said. Scott was floundering, unable to remember what exactly Derek had said. All he knew was that Derek said something about a fire, then he and Isaac left. Scott snapped his fingers at Stiles, “I remember!” Everyone waited on baited breath for Scott to say what had happened, “You,” he said, pointing at Stiles, “have his hat. And he wants it back.”

Stiles smacked his forehead with the palm of his hand, “Are you fucking kidding me Scott?” He picked the hat up off his head and began hitting Scott with it, “Do,” whack, “you,” whack, “really,” whack, “think,” whack, “I give a goddamn,” whack, “fuck,” whack, “about his stupid, fucking hat?” whack, whack, whack, whack. 

“I think,” Lydia said, taking the hat from the red with anger Stiles, “what he means to say is, ‘is his family okay, does he need the support and help of his friends, is anyone seriously injured?’”

Scott paused from rubbing his arm where he had been beaten by Derek’s baseball hat, “I don’t think so. He told us not to worry.”

Stiles threw his arms up in the air, “Oh thank fuck for that! It would have been fucking fantastic if you had told us that, RIGHT AFTER YOU TOLD US ABOUT THE DAMN FIRE!”

Lydia stared at Stiles, who tended to never blow up at Scott, “Well, we will be right over there. Letting off some steam. Maybe we can find Jackson and you two can yell at each other.” Stiles deflated and nodded, then he tucked his head into Lydia’s shoulder. “Yeah, I bet yelling at Jackson will make you feel better.” Then she threw her arm around Stiles’ waist and escorted him away from where Allison was describing to Scott the proper way of relaying information about a friend.

“Repeat after me Scott, ‘Don’t worry, everything is okay, but Derek had to go because there was a family emergency. He told us not to worry, so I don’t think anything is seriously wrong, I think his family just needed him and Isaac home right now.’” Allison patted Scott’s shoulder, “Don’t you think that’s better, baby?”

Scott nodded, rubbing his hand along the back of his neck bashfully. 

That night the campfire was a little less cheerful. The entire group was tired, and Derek had apparently returned Erica’s three calls. Danny had shown up with Jackson eventually, and had shared the information that Scott had forgotten. According to Derek, everyone was okay, but Laura’s laptop had gotten a little singed, but it was okay because she had needed a new one anyway. 

The next morning was their last morning in the campsite, the first hour or so was spent packing up the tents and getting them sorted into the separate cars. Then Lydia, Erica, and Allison wanted to tan. Lydia grabbed Stiles’ wrist and dragged him off. 

“Wait, why are you taking me.”

Lydia snorted, “Because you also need to tan.”

This time it was Stiles’ turn to snort at Lydia, “I don’t tan, I _burn.”_

Lydia, Allison, and Erica smiled at him, mouths stretching, baring their teeth, “Too bad. You’re still coming with us.”

Stiles paled even more, “Why do I get the feeling that we are either a) going to be talking about my love life, b) talking about girl stuff, c) whining to me about your boyfriends or d) all of the above.”

By the evil gleam in Lydia’s eye, Stiles was pretty sure the correct answer was d) all the above.

**

Stiles paused, “This is the point in the story when I hit pause and ask you if you want to know what we talked about.”

Derek put his fork down on his empty plate and leaned toward Stiles, elbows and forearms resting on the surface of the island, “In three words, go.”

Stiles smiled and put his fork down on his empty plate, “Okay, let’s see,” he counted them off on his fingers, “Periods, Danny, and Jackson.”

Derek scrunched his nose, “I’m good on all those topics, thanks.”

“Believe me, you would not have wanted to be there for that conversation.” Stiles patted his belly, “Man, I am stuffed.” 

Derek looked forlornly at the dish with lasagna still in it. 

Stiles saw the look and gestured at the dish, “You’re welcome to seconds if you want it.”

Derek grabbed the spatula that Stiles had used to cut and distribute the lasagna in the first place, “Thanks,” he said, muffled by his next bite of lasagna, “it has been a while since I’ve had lasagna this good.” 

Stiles smiled, “This isn’t even half as amazing as the lasagna my mom used to make.” Stiles smiled softly, lost in the memory of his mother.

“Tell me about her.”

Stiles inhaled sharply. He tensed and his relaxed hands fisted. 

Derek backpedaled quickly, “I mean, only if you want to or are comfortable,” he ran a hand through his slightly damp hair, “I get if it’s too hard to talk about her, I know her loss was painful for you.” Derek gave up, “Never mind, we can go back to talking about camping.”

“We just kinda talked and then we all went home and I realized I had your hat and I felt bad then I dropped it in the dirt, and then I tried to wash it and that’s the story.”

“Oh.” The two sat there awkwardly for a moment. Derek had stopped eating, and Stiles was watching his fork spin around in the meat sauce and cheese combination. 

After what seemed like years of silence, but was only about a minute, Stiles exhaled. “My mom, she was just like me.” A smile ghosted across Stiles’ face, “Every morning she used to make her coffee with hot cocoa mix. She’d dump a tons of the powder into her coffee cup and fill it all the way to the brim.” He ran a hand over his face, the action pulled his mouth into a frown, but only for a moment because he resumed speaking. “My first taste of coffee was just like that. She dumped tons of the powder into the cup and poured in enough coffee to just cover the powder. She stirred it and these clumps of the mix came floating to the surface.” Stiles looked up and met Derek’s eyes, “I grabbed the cup from her and drank the mess, and god, it was horrible, absolutely just, disgusting. She made her coffee so strong that my dad had a tendency to water his down.” His smile dropped, “He still makes it like that, you know? Even though she isn’t there to make the coffee that dark, he still makes it too strong and puts water in from the sink.” Stiles’ hands shook and he ran them through his hair, “I made my coffee the way she used to when I went home for the summer, and he just about had a breakdown.” He was staring into space, “I’ll never forget that hug he gave me, it was like I had given my mother right back to him.”

Stiles chuckled darkly, “I guess in a way, I had. I look just like her, y’know? I got her eyes and everything. Her hair, Jesus, my dad says I even walk like her. How can I walk like her? Sometimes I feel horrible, because I’m her.” He put his hands over his face, but continued coherently, “And the kicker is, I don’t even like _that_ much cocoa mix in my coffee, just a bit, so that there’s a hint.”

Derek leaned forward and clasped Stiles’ forearm, “I think you walk like you. I think you’re you, with a hint of her. You’re like your coffee, coffee but with a mix of the hot cocoa mix.”

Stiles smiled, “She’s the hot cocoa mix.”

Derek nodded and smiled in response to Stiles, “She’s the hot cocoa mix.”

Stiles smiled, “I think she would’ve liked that.”

“I do too, I do too.”

They stood there, Derek’s hand clasped onto Stiles’ forearm, an anchor. They sat in silence, comfortable silence, not the long awkward silence of before but a silence that fell like a warm blanket. 

Suddenly, Stiles perked up, “I have to tell you about the time my mom scared my dad so badly on Halloween that he peed himself.”

Derek began laughing, and he leaned himself back, ready to enjoy the story. He motioned with his hand for Stiles to continue.

“Okay, so apparently my dad used to be crazy terrified of clowns. And so one year, my mom decided that she would do a haunted house for the kids in the neighborhood, except she was really into it. Like she bought skeletons and and theme rooms, and there was a maze, and it was all in our front and back yards. But like, my dad had never told my mom about this irrational fear of clowns, which is totally understandable….”

Derek continued to listen to Stiles tell story after story of his mother and thought that yeah, having Stiles tell stories about their friends was fun, but having Stiles tell stories about his mom was beautiful. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you wish to find me on Tumblr [here](http://a-love-story-across-fandoms.tumblr.com) I am.
> 
> Another reason I've been busy, I've recently started [a fic rec site](http://wheredidhiseyebrowsgo.tumblr.com/) with one of my best friends. It's Teen Wolf, and we're trying to be accepting of all ships and pairings. We don't have a lot of posts yet, but we'll be getting them up soon. So I'll keep you posted on that as well.


	10. Everything is Perfect, Until It Falls Apart a.k.a. Everyone is a Cockblock, Scott Ruins Everything, and Stiles is a Jerk

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They finally make their moves on each other and everything is great. Derek isn't emotionally constipated and he uses his words. Basically, everything is perfect, until Scott ruins it. Fucking Scott.
> 
> (Except, it really isn't Scott's fault. It's more Stiles' fault.)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I know this chapter is super late, but I've been really busy lately and please don't hate me. :(  
> This chapter was also didn't want to be written, but once I figured out where exactly I was going, it just flowed.  
> Anyway, I've decided that this is the halfway point, and that there will be four epilogue type things at the end as little bonus chapters. 
> 
> Warning for a potential panic attack type thing. It's not detailed, and I'm not sure it even is one (I've never had one so I wouldn't know) but just in case you are triggered by something like that, proceed with caution. 
> 
> As always, comments, kudos, and bookmarks help the world go 'round and Derek smile more often.

Later that night, after Derek had had three servings of the lasagna and Stiles had pulled out ice cream and they both had eaten almost the entire gallon. After Derek had taken his clothes out of the dryer and thrown Scott’s clothes in the hamper. After Stiles had told Derek about the time he and his dad had accidentally locked themselves out of the house for hours until Scott had come by looking for Stiles and had happened to have a key to their front door. After Derek had told Stiles about the time Laura and Cora had locked Derek out of the house while only in his towel. They had left Derek out there until he had agreed to help them bake cookies for Cora’s bake sale. 

 “How did they sell?”

 Derek had smirked, “Completely sold out.”

 After Derek and Stiles had stretched out on the sofa, trading stories back and forth like they were playing Go Fish. Eventually, Derek had looked at the time and had balked when he realized that it was just past one in the morning. 

 Derek stood and stretched, “I should probably go.” He hiked a thumb over his shoulder, gesturing to the door. 

 Stiles stood up, “Here,” he dusted invisible dust off his jeans, “I’ll walk you back to your dorm.” He grabbed a hoodie and thrust his arms through the sleeves, “Besides I still have to ask you about how your family started shipping us.”

 Derek groaned and looked up at the sky. “Are you sure you want to hear this story?”

 Stiles rubbed his hands together, “Of course I do.”

 Derek sighed and shook his head, “Okay, but remember, I warned you.”

 Stiles turned and locked the backdoor to his house, “Trust me, I’m prepared.”

 Derek shook his head and ran a hand through his hair, “I don’t think you’ll ever be fully prepared for this story.”

 **

Derek and his friends were helping to clear up the mess that the fire and the firemen had made of the downstairs. The stairs were completely roped off, and family members were scattered, picking up and throwing away water logged and fire damaged remnants. Derek and Isaac had started off in the guest room, and had eventually been joined by Erica and Boyd. Derek had to keep pushing his sweat matted hair off his forehead.

 After the third or fourth time of Derek roughly pushing his hair from his face, Erica turned to him, arms crossed and said, “Why don’t you just put on your hat.” Then she paused, and her mouth stretched into a smile, baring her teeth, “That’s right, I forgot. Stiles still hasn’t given you your hat back.”

 Derek’s eyes narrowed. “What of it?”

 “Oh I don’t know. Maybe he’s keeping it from you on purpose.”

 Isaac nodded, playing along, “Yeah, maybe he just wants to keep it because it belongs to his Der-Der.”

Derek rolled his eyes and continued clearing the debris, “I highly doubt that. You know he’s just absent minded.”

“What if,” Erica continued, “he took it so you would have to remember him? What if he took it on purpose?”

“I highly doubt he took it on purpose.”

 Cora, who had been passing by, looked in, “Who took what on purpose?”

 Derek’s eyes widened and he froze, “No one took anything.”

 Erica’s mouth stretched into a smile that Derek was really beginning to hate, “Stiles stole Derek’s hat in order to get closer to him.”

 “He did _not_ steal my hat to get closer to me.”

 Cora clutched her hands over her mouth and squealed.

 **

“Wait, wait, wait, you expect for me to believe that _Cora squealed_?”

Derek stopped walking and looked at Stiles, “You have to remember that this was back when she was just beginning high school. She was so innocent and untried. She didn’t turn into the wonderful, cynical, angry Cora until later in high school.”

“How is Cora, by the way?”

“Fine.”

“Everything still okay with the girlfriend?”

Derek paused and looked at Stiles, “Cora is single.”

“Are you sure about that? She’s all over her Facebook page.”

“No she isn’t. I’ve checked her Facebook page.”

Stiles gasped and covered his mouth with a hand, “You’re on her family friendly page aren’t you?”

“Her WHAT?!”

Stiles looked down, “Never mind.”

“ _Stiles,_ what is a family friendly page?”

Stiles rubbed the back of his neck and avoided eye contact, “It’s a separate page where you post things that your family want to see.” He cleared his throat and continued to look away from Derek, “Essentially you have two Facebook pages, one for your friends, where you can post about parties, and you can curse, and have boyfriends and stuff and one page for your family. So they think that nothing is wrong or happening.”

“So you can keep secret boyfriends a secret.”

Stiles nodded and Derek pulled out his phone.

 

_To: The Littlest Devil_

DO YOU HAVE A SECRET GIRLFRIEND.

 

_From: The Littlest Devil_

……….. I don’t know what you’re talking about.

 

_To: The Littlest Devil_

You are LYING to me.

 

_From: The Littlest Devil_

No.

 

_To: The Littlest Devil_

CORA

 

_From: The Littlest Devil_

DEREK

 

_To: The Littlest Devil_

I’M GOING TO TELL MOM.

 

_To: The Littlest Devil_

NO. I’M GOING TO TELL LAURA.

 

_To: The Littlest Devil_

NO. I’M GOING TO TELL ISAAC.

 

_To: The Littlest Devil_

Actually, they all probably know.

I’ll just tell Uncle Peter.

 

_From: The Littlest Devil_

….. You wouldn’t

 

_To: The Littlest Devil_

Try. Me.

_From: The Littlest Devil_

Fine, you bastard, yes I have a girlfriend. And NO you can’t meet him. Not yet.

 

_To: The Littlest Devil_

All right. I can accept that. Just tell me who she is.

 

_From: The Littlest Devil_

…….She’s from school.

 

_To: The Littlest Devil_

Which school.

 

_From: The Littlest Devil_

OH WOULD YOU LOOK AT THE TIME. I gotta run. Bye.

 

_To: The Littlest Devil_

Cora.

 

_To: The Littlest Devil_

CORA

 

_To: The Littlest Devil_

YOU CAN’T HIDE FROM ME FOREVER.

 

Derek spent a few more second staring at his phone, willing it to tell him all the answers to his most burning questions. Then with a sudden bolt of insight, he realized that it could give him all the answers.

He pulled up a new text message:

 

_To: Uncle God I Hope Psychopathic Tendencies are Normal_

Cora has a girlfriend.

 

_From: Uncle God I Hope Psychopathic Tendencies are Normal_

Who.

 

_To: Uncle God I Hope Psychopathic Tendencies are Normal_

She won’t tell me.

 

_From: Uncle God I Hope Psychopathic Tendencies are Normal_

Joyous day. I do love stalking my prey.

 

Derek smiled and it must have scared Stiles because he turned to Derek and said, “Derek, what have you done?”

Derek smirked and slid his phone into his pocket, “I’ve called in the big guns.”

“No Derek,” Stiles shook his head, fighting off a smile, “you’ve called in the crazy guns.”

Derek smiled and looked at Stiles, “Did you want me to finish my story or not?”

Stiles gestured for Derek to continue, “By all means, continue.”

**

Cora clutched her hands over her mouth and squealed, “Oh my God! It’s about time you and Stiles figured everything out!”

Isaac, Boyd, and Erica looked at Derek and muttered, “I know, right?”

Cora came in further and sat on the ash covered floor, “So, how did it happen?”

“Well,” Erica began, “we were all camping and Stiles went on a hike and asked to borrow Derek’s hat. Derek ended up having to leave early and left before Stiles could give him back the hat.”

“And?”

“And Stiles still has the hat.”

“Seriously?!”

Derek stopped what he was doing, “What is the big deal about the hat?”

The four other people in the room looked at Derek as if he was the biggest idiot in the world, “The hat isn’t a big deal.”

“Then why are you making it a big deal?”

“Because,” said Cora, as if she was teaching him simple addition, “it’s the way you interact _about_ the hat.”

“Tell me,” said Erica throwing an arm around his shoulder, “what is Stiles’ name in your phone.”

“What does that have anything to do with it?”

Boyd rolled his eyes and finally joined in on the conversation, “You title everyone personally. Your mom is ‘Mother Knows Best,’ Lydia is ‘Tiny, Terrifying, Redhead,’ Jackson is ‘That Dickhead With the Cheekbones,’ etc. Their names mean something to you.”

Derek looked away, “He’s ‘Hat Thief,’ okay?”

Cora jumped up and squealed. 

Erica looked pleased, “And why is he ‘Hat Thief?’”

Derek sighed, “Because he stole my damn hat.”

Isaac came forward, “Now, Derek” he clapped Derek on the shoulder, “if the hat _really_ didn’t mean anything like you insist, why would you change his name from ‘What the FUCK is a Stiles’?” 

Derek sighed and Erica came over to give him a hug. Cora gasped, “I have to go tell Laura!”

And Derek had to give his older sister credit that she had impeccable timing because at that moment she appeared in the doorway and said, “Tell Laura what?”

Derek groaned and Cora launched into the story of the stupid hat. At the end of it Laura had looked at Derek and said, “I ship it.”

**

“And thus, the shipping began.”

Stiles began laughing. “So did everything just spread?”

Derek just nodded solemnly. “It started in that room, with everyone laughing and repeating ‘I ship it.’” 

Derek let them into his building, “I ended up griping about it to Laura and my parents overheard so she told them the story. Once she told them what shipping was, it escalated.” He sighed and the two of them began going up the stairs, “Eventually even cousins and very distant relatives knew about the boy who had stolen my hat.”

“How did it get onto the internet?”

“Laura has a lot of Tumblr followers. So do Erica and Isaac. After the incident in the grocery store, Laura ended up posting about it, leading Erica and Isaac to reblog. I became known as Derek ‘The Hat Guy’ and you became known as Stiles ‘The Hat Thief.’ Thus Sterek was born.”

“And the fanfiction?”

“I don’t even know. But now there are AUs where you are a burglar and you steal my hat and I’m a detective and I chase you down because it’s my favorite hat. And there are one shots of our wedding where instead of a wedding ring you put my hat back on my head. And there’s porn and fluff, and angst. In one AU you’ve accidentally destroyed my hat and I don’t know if I can be around you anymore because it’s my favorite hat. And everything is stupid and ridiculous.” 

Derek ran his hands through his hair. “I don’t even know how this happened.”

Stiles gave Derek a soft smile, “The internet is crazy Derek, but at least nothing is all that bad about you, right?”

“Stiles, there is fanart.”

“Seriously?”

“Seriously.”

“How do they even know what we look like?”

“Laura posted a photo of us and told them to draw us.”

“How much of it is NSFW?”

“I don’t know! It’s not like I go looking for it!”

“Aren’t you curious?”

“About what?”

“If they got the proportions right?”

“I don’t care if they got my proportions right!”

“What if they gave you a tiny dick? What if they gave you a massive dick? What if they gave you a tail! Or a knot! What if they drew you pregnant?”

Derek looked horrified, “They make men pregnant.”

Stiles nodded and Derek wondered briefly how they got into this situation. It was all Laura’s fault. Everything was Laura’s fault.

It was then that the two of them noticed that they were standing at Derek’s dorm room. Derek hiked his thumb over his shoulder, “I, uh, should go.” He looked at his watch and winced, “It’s pretty late.'

Stiles flushed slightly, “I’m sorry for keeping you out so late.” He began to shuffle his feet further from Derek.

“Don’t be,” Derek dove forward and grabbed his wrist, “I had a good time hanging with you and telling stories. It was fun.” Derek moved slightly closer to Stiles, “I would love to do this with you again tomorrow, but I really have to do some work.”

Stiles moved closer, “Yeah, it’s really no problem. I understand. If you’re up for it, we could meet in the library, just study or something.”

Derek smiled, “Yeah, I’d like that.”

They shuffled even closer. This close to Stiles Derek couldn’t help but stare at his lips. They were so close. Stiles smiled and Derek’s breath hitched slightly. 

Across the hall, Jennifer’s door flew open and there she stood with Kerry or whatever the fuck her name was.

He and Stiles sprang apart, blushing furiously.

Stiles cleared his throat, “Well, uh, see you tomorrow.” 

Derek nodded, too out of breath to say anything. Stiles got about halfway to the stairwell and turned around, Derek was watching him go. They both gave tentative waves. Once Stiles got all the way to the stairwell, he turned around again. This time the wave was more confident, and Derek had caught his breath enough to say, “See you tomorrow.” 

He turned and noticed that Jennifer was there with Kandy. He gave them a distant wave, “G’night Jackie, Kelly.” Then he retreated to his room, where he collapsed on his bed with a long sigh. 

The next morning when Derek awoke, he immediately checked his phone. There were no text messages waiting for him. 

Derek sighed and tapped out a message:

 

_To: Hat Thief_

I was gonna head over to the library at 11ish. I should be there all day. You’re welcome to join me, if you haven’t tired of me yet.

 

Derek checked his clock, 10:05, that gave him about an hour to get himself ready and his stuff together. An hour later found Derek settling down at a long table at the front of the library on the first floor. If Stiles came in through the front doors, he’d see Derek straight away.  

It was 11:45 and Derek was beginning to lose hope that Stiles would be joining him for study time. He checked his phone, no messages. Derek’s stomach growled and he contemplated leaving to get food, but decided against it. What if Stiles appeared while he was gone, only to find that Derek had left? It was 11:50 when a jumble of bags and pale limbs came crashing through the doors of the library.

Derek looked up to see Stiles glancing around, craning his head this way and that. Derek raised a hand and waved. Stiles’ eye found him and lit up. He made his way over to Derek, hitting other patrons with his mass of bags. He plunked down across the table. 

“Hey,” he said, out of breath.

Derek smiled in response. His eyes fell on the bags that Stiles had carried in. “Wha’re those?”

“I brought food. I figured you’d be hungry.”

Just then Derek’s stomach let out a loud rumble. Derek looked gratefully at Stiles, “I could kiss you right now.”

Stiles smiled and let his gaze drop to Derek’s lips, “Oh, you could, could you?”

Derek swallowed and focused on Stiles’ lips, “I could.”

Stiles flushed and began to pull out tupperware, fervently avoiding Derek’s gaze. Derek leaned across the table and lifted Stiles’ chin with a finger. Stiles’ eyes widened and Derek watched them dilate. With boxes of tupperware between them, Derek began to lean across the table, eyes focused on Stiles’ lips. Derek could feel Stiles’ breath on his lips. 

“There’s no eating in the library.”

Derek and Stiles jumped apart. Stiles, so much so that he unbalanced his chair and fell to the floor in a mass of legs, both wooden and human. 

Derek groaned and looked at the interrupting librarian. “Excuse me?”

She gestured to the vast amounts of food in front of them, face pinched in disapproval, “There’s no eating in the library. You and your boyfriend will have to take it outside to eat it.”

Stiles waved limply at her from the floor. Then, in a broken voice said, “Got it, boss.”

The librarian nodded, looked at the boys and smiled indulgently, “I would like to say that you make an adorable couple.”

From his place on the floor with his chair, Stiles flushed, and Derek murmured a thank you as he packed the food back into the bags. 

Once he had all the food back in its place, he walked over to where Stiles was still on the floor and pulled him up with a great heave, “Come on, you goober. We’re having a picnic.”

Stiles cooed as Derek made his way through his peers who were shamelessly staring at them, “Oh Der-Der, how _romantic._ ”

Derek rolled his eyes, “Shut up, Stiles.” 

Stiles jogged to catch up and grasped Derek’s hand. He threaded their fingers together and looked up at Derek through his lashes, ‘You know, you never did give me that kiss for bringing you food.”

Derek huffed, “You cabbage.” Then he swooped down and just barely brushed his lips against Stiles’. 

Stiles gasped, and threw an arm around Derek’s neck, dragging Derek down to meet Stiles as he arced up. He crashed their lips together in a close-mouthed kiss.

When they had separated, they looked around to see that their peers in the library were watching them and applauding. Even the librarian was there, hovering in the background, watching and whistling. The two men flushed and made their way out of the doors, still holding hands.

They set their impromptu picnic up outside the library, Derek leaning up against the wall with Stiles situated between his legs, using Derek as a backrest. Every time Derek leaned forward to grab a chip, or any type of food really, his stubble rubbed against Stiles’ neck and his chest pressed against Stiles’ back. 

Once they were done eating, Stiles leaned back against Derek as Derek ran his fingers up and down Stiles’ arms. Stiles sighed and turned to look at Derek, whose head was resting on Stiles’ shoulder. “Derek, did you call me a cabbage?”

Derek smiled, nodded, and leaned to press his lips lightly against Stiles’. Against his lips Stiles murmured, “That’s what I thought.”

For two weeks, everything was fine. Stiles still wouldn’t give the hat back to Derek, but he didn’t mind, Derek had Stiles, he didn’t need the hat. For two weeks, they studied together and spent time together. They got coffee, and, much to the amusement of head librarian, spent time picnicking in front of the library. Tours of future students passed by them and Stiles made faces at them behind the backs of the tour guides. It was during one such picnic, a week and a half into their relationship, that Derek finally got a response from his uncle.

_From: Uncle God I Hope Psychopathic Tendencies Are Normal_

Braeden 

 

_To: Uncle God I Hope Psychopathic Tendencies Are Normal_

Last name?

 

_From: Uncle God I Hope Psychopathic Tendencies Are Normal_

Can’t find one.

 

_To: Uncle God I Hope Psychopathic Tendencies Are Normal_

You can’t find her last name?

 

_From: Uncle God I Hope Psychopathic Tendencies Are Normal_

I know. I’m flummoxed.

 

Derek turned to Stiles, terror in his eyes. “Peter said that he could only find out her first name.”

Stiles’ eyes widened and he gulped.

 

_To: Uncle God I Hope Psychopathic Tendencies Are Normal_

Maybe we should just wait for Cora to introduce us.

 

_From: Uncle God I Hope Psychopathic Tendencies Are Normal_

You know, I was just thinking the same thing.

 

For two weeks, everything was perfect between Stiles and Derek. Their friends were  pleased ecstatic that they were together, as were both of their families. Derek got numerous texts from his family, both immediate and extended to not fuck up what they had. He was reminded on a constant basis to keep lines of communication open and flowing. To not keep secrets and to tell Stiles what he was feeling. And he did. He did not want to ruin it with Stiles. He told him that they should take things slowly that he had had some problems in the past. When Stiles pushed Derek to tell him what had happened, Derek had looked into his eyes and told him about Kate Argent.

They sat on Derek’s bed, and Stiles had positioned himself against the wall with Derek’s back pushed against his chest. Derek had stumbled and stuttered through the story of his first college girlfriend. She had seen him in her class, seen his grades and had manipulated him. She had planned out everything, learned his favorite food, his favorite places to go, who his friends were, when he felt the most homesick and had made herself the perfect possibility for romance. She used him for an A in the class, begging for his notes, using his answers on the tests, he had even done some of her homework because her dad “had been sick” and she hadn’t had time to do it. When she got her final grade, she had dumped him saying, “You’ve done your job. See you around.” Derek had felt sick and manipulated. It hadn’t been _real._ Everything was fake, contrived, an act. They had simply been actors on a stage, not two people falling in love over the same interests. 

After Derek had gotten the horrible story out, Stiles had kissed every inch of his face and whispered, that everything was okay, over and over again. He had clutched Derek to him and wrapped his arms around Derek. Derek had snuggled in and felt safe in Stiles’ arms. 

Two weeks into what Stiles called their “epic romance,” everything fell apart.

They were sitting in Stiles’ living room, Scott positioned in an armchair, sitting sideways, legs flung over one armrest with his neck and head resting on the other armrest. To Derek, it looked like the most uncomfortable position in existence. Stiles was again situated between Derek’s legs, while Derek’s back was propped up against the armrest. Their legs were tangled together while Stiles read some book about the ancient civilizations in the Indus River Valley and Derek was reading _As You Like It_ for what seemed like the thousandth time. 

He was reading Jacques’ speech in Act 2 Scene 7, when Scott looked up from his phone and said, “It’s a great thing the plan worked out, huh Stiles?”

Derek looked up, “What plan?”

“Oh, y’know, the Ten Year Plan?” At Derek’s blank look, Scott continued, “The ten year plan to make you fall for Stiles.”

Derek froze. Every muscle in his body tensed. His breaths shallowed. His heart began to pound in his chest. 

Scott, not recognizing what was happening on the couch, “It was only supposed to be a five year plan, but we raised it in like junior year.”

Derek was numb, paralyzed. The words repeated in his head, _make you fall for Stiles, make you fall, make you, make you make you. Planned, planned, planned._ He looked down at the words in his book, “All the world’s a stage,/ And all the men and women merely players;” He stared at the words, _stage, stage, stage, players, players, players, acting, acting, acting, planned, planned, planned._

He finally unfroze enough to look up. Stiles was kneeling between his legs, hands cupping Derek’s face. Stiles looked worried and tears were beginning to collect in his eyes. Derek moved to get up, but Stiles was still there, too close. Derek shifted and tried to get out from under Stiles, but Stiles was still too close, he didn’t notice that Derek wanted to be let up. 

Derek took a deep breath, _don’t fuck this up. Calm down and explain yourself._ “Stiles,” he ground out, his voice hoarse, “I need you to get off me. Right now.” He drew in another shaky breath and Stiles retreated, falling back on his heels, still on the couch. Derek stood up, “I need to go.” He ran a shaky hand through his hair, “I can’t,” he paused, drew in another long breath, “I can’t be here right now.”He left swiftly. 

Derek was striding away from the house when he heard the screen door slam behind him. He heard pounding, running footsteps and Stiles slid to a stop in front of him, “Derek, please, don’t leave.”

Derek clenched his jaw, “I have to Stiles.”

“No, no, no, no, no, no, no,” Stiles clutched at his face, neck, everywhere he could get a hold of, “Please don’t go, please don’t go.”

_Don’t fuck this up. Tell him what is happening._ Derek looked at Stiles, “Stiles, if I stay, I’m going to say something that will hurt the both of us.” He closed his eyes and opened them again, “I have to go.”

“No, you don’t.” Stiles moved into his space.

Derek’s voice broke, “Stiles, right now, I’m not seeing you, I’m seeing Kate.” 

Stiles flinched back and looked hurt, “I’d never—”

“I know, Stiles, you’d never. But you did.” _Tell him what you’re feeling._ “I feel manipulated and hurt. I need some time to myself. So please, let me go.” Stiles still didn’t let go of Derek, so Derek reached up and gently unclasped Stiles’ hands from around his shoulders. “I’ll call when I’m ready.” He looked one last time at Stiles, whose tears threatened to fall, then turned and headed back to his dorm room.

Once back in his dorm room, Derek let out a long shaky breath and felt tears come to his eyes. He blinked and rubbed his eyes to keep the tears from falling. He had done the right thing, he hoped. He pulled out his phone and tapped out a text to Laura:

_To: Laura Means Evil_

How ‘bout a trip home?

 

When she didn’t respond, he dialed her number instead. She answered on the fourth ring. 

“Derek? What’s wrong? You never call.”

“Laur,” he cleared his throat, “did you maybe wanna go visit home?”

Laura paused, “I still haven’t told them.”

“Laur,” his voice cracked and he cleared his throat, it did nothing to help, “please.”

“I’ll be there in forty-five minutes.”

He cleared his throat again, this time it worked, “You’re an hour and a half away.” 

He heard keys jangling and the Camaro start, “Little brother, I’ll be there in forty-five minutes.”

Derek nodded into the phone and hoped valiantly that she heard it. He heard her say, “Hold on, little bro. Hold on.”

Derek nodded and kept the line open. He stretched out on his bed and positioned the phone next to his pillow. He closed his eyes and listened as the Camaro’s engine purred and rumbled with Laura’s ministrations. Laura was coming, and they were going home. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay so the speech that Derek is reading and quotes from is right [here.](http://www.poets.org/poetsorg/poem/you-it-act-ii-scene-vii-all-worlds-stage)  
> It really is from "As You Like It" by William Shakespeare and I thought it was just perfect for the scene.   
> Also, yes, Derek does call Stiles a cabbage. 
> 
> Find my personal Tumblr [here.](http://a-love-story-across-fandoms.tumblr.com)  
> And find the Teen Wolf fic rec blog that has been consuming all of my time [here.](http://wheredidhiseyebrowsgo.tumblr.com)


	11. Everything Goes Better Than Expected (aka Laura Tells Her Big News and Shit Hits The Fan)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Derek and Laura reminisce, go home, there are more dogs and pop culture references than should be allowed, and the Hales demonstrate their perfect and total sanity. Really, it all depends on your definition of sanity.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just wanted to say that I am so, so, so, so, sorry about not updating for so long. I actually went to Colorado for a couple of days to help move my sister into her apartment, and I had a) really shitty WiFi and b) absolutely no time.  
> This chapter did not want to be written, but hopefully the speed bump is over. I wanted to say thank you to everyone who is still reading this, even though I'm horrible at updating. 
> 
> Comment, kudo, and bookmark if you like sweaty, running Derek as much as I do (which is a totally unhealthy amount of love, right there.)

Of course the first words Laura had said to Derek were, “what happened?”

 Derek didn’t especially want to talk about it yet, so his first words to his sister were, “I don’t want to talk about it.”

 Laura sighed, “Does Stiles at least know what is happening?”

 At Stiles’ name, Derek tensed.

 Laura looked at Derek, “What did you do?”

 Derek looked out the window and avoided eye contact.

 Derek, if you did something to Stiles… We told you that you have to talk to him. Let him in.” She looked at him from where she sat behind the wheel.

 Derek folded his arms across his chest and scowled.

 “Derek Anthony Hale,” Laura scolded, “what did you do to Stiles? If you don’t tell me, I will turn this car around and apologize to him for you.”

 Derek growled at that, “Why do you automatically assume _I_ did something to _Stiles_? Why can’t Stiles have done something to me?”

 Laura sat silently.

 “I know how to communicate, Laura. As much as you would like to think I’m absolutely incompetent, I’m not.” Derek refolded his arms across his chest and stared out the window.

 “I didn’t think Stiles would do anything to you because he’s been in love with you forever.” She paused and rested her head in the hand that was propped up against the window. “You’re oblivious about these kinds of things, and we were all scared that you would unintentionally say something about him that will make him question why you’re with him.”

 Derek sighed and pulled out his phone:

  _To: Hat Thief_

I just want you to know that I’m heading home for a couple of days.

 

Derek stared at the message then scrubbed his hands over his face, then continued with the message:

 I need you to know that this isn’t because of you, it’s because of me and my reaction. 

 

He stared at the message and contemplated it before he pressed send. Unlike the majority of Derek’s messages to Stiles, there wasn’t an immediate response. But Derek figured that that was okay. 

 Laura glanced at Derek from the corner of her eye, “So what happened?”

 “I’m not completely ready to talk about it.”

“Just a little bit so I know what not to say?”

 Derek sighed and scrubbed his hands over his face again, “There was a ten year plan to make me fall for Stiles.”

 Laura sucked in a breath, “Did you, you know, tell him?”

 Derek nodded, “A couple of days ago.”

 “How did you find out?”

 “Scott let it slip.”

 “That little…. He didn’t even tell you himself? Just let you find out on your own?”

 Derek nodded, “I just needed some time alone. You know? To myself. I had kind of a bad reaction to it. He probably knew I would have a bad reaction, which is probably why he didn’t tell me sooner.”

 “No. Don’t make excuses for him, don’t put words into his mouth. You can talk about it with him when you get back. It’ll give you time to cool down and get your head together.”

 Derek nodded. “That’s what I told him. I said that I needed some time just to collect myself.”

 Laura nodded, “I’m proud of you, Der-Bear. Actually communicating.”

 Derek fought back a grin, “Fuck you.”

 Laura threw her head back and laughed, “So, how am I gonna break it to Mom and Dad?”

 “Blurt it out then run like hell? Hide Dad’s shotgun? Hide Mom’s extensive collection of knives? Never ever tell Uncle Peter?”

 Laura shuddered to think what her family would do if they found out her boyfriend had knocked her up, then left her for someone else who _wasn’t_ knocked up. Laura groaned, “They’re all gonna try to kill him, aren’t they?”

 Derek patted his sister on the shoulder, “Just look at Dad with your puppy eyes, you know he can’t resist that. Tell Mom that you are a strong independent woman and that you don’t need no man. And tell your ex to get into Witness Protection to get away from Peter.”

 Laura laughed, “Maybe you can distract Peter with finding Cora’s girlfriend.”

 Derek shuddered, “We’ve decided that we will wait for Cora to introduce us.”

 Laura gasped and turned to look at Derek, “Are you kidding me? You stalked my first boyfriend and Peter left notes by his window with daggers.”

“Uncle Peter could only find out her first name.”

 “Nothing else?”

 “Nothing. Else.”

 Laura paused and stared at the road, “Probably good you guys decided to drop the search.” 

 Derek nodded, “Yeah, we agreed it was for the best.”

 The car was silent for a second, then there was a muttered, “Go Cora” from Laura’s side of the car. 

 Derek nodded, “She learned so much watching us date.”

 “She really, _really_ did.”

 Derek thought back to the past, to his first couple of dates and began to laugh. 

 Laura looked at him, eyebrow raised, “What?”

 “Do you remember my first boyfriend? He came by the house to pick me up, and Dad answered the door, calm as could be with a meat cleaver and an apron?”

 Laura began to laugh, “And Mom was sitting in that big, ugly, leather chair with a butterfly knife in each hand, and just flipping them around while she asked him the most unassuming questions?”

 “Then Peter walked down the stairs, wiping his hands on a bloody rag, and just said, ‘The woods are a wondrous hiding place, don’t you think?’ and had walked, cool as you please out the back door?”

 "And then Cora and I had to get in on the action?”

 Derek chuckled, “You guys came bounding down the stairs, each carrying one jug of ammonium hydroxide and one jug of lye, then saying, ‘Is this enough to dissolve a body?’ Mom answered, _without_ looking away from my date, and _still_ twirling those damn knives, ‘Oh no honey, that’s only enough for hands and feet.’”

 “Whatever happened with that guy?”

 “We went to a movie and he wouldn’t touch me.”

 Laura grimaced, “I’m sorry.”

 “I kept putting my arm around his shoulder, and my hand on his thigh. Both of which he had been very receptive to in previous situations.”

 “I’m sorry.”

 “It got worse. He told his friends that my family was full of crazy murderers trying to protect my virtue. I didn’t get laid _at all_ that semester.”

 “What happened the next semester?”

 “A new guy transferred. I got to him before the rumors, and told him it was all bullshit spread by a jealous ex. I only brought him over once I was ready to break it off.”

 “Wait, we were your break up date?”

 “Yup.”

 “So when you were ready to break it off with your flavor of the month, you just told them they were going to meet the family and let them break up with you.”

 “You guys had your uses. They always felt really bad about breaking it off, and I played it off like it happens a lot. I was never the bad guy, only the victim of a horribly protective family.”

 “Damn kid, you are good.”

 “I _was_ good. I don’t do that anymore.”

 “Well, your boyfriend fits in this family better than you do.”

 Derek laughed, “I don’t think anyone has held up to Mom’s questioning like Stiles.”

 “Wait, she’s already questioned him?”

 “Yeah, I was Skyping her and Stiles came to visit. So she pulled out her butterfly knives and began flipping them around. Then he asked her if she could do the trebuchet move, which she demonstrated for him perfectly. Then she took out another knife and began freestyling them together. Stiles was entranced. When she had hung up he looked at me and said that my mom was awesome.”

 Laura began to laugh, and continued to laugh. “Your boyfriend commandeered your Skype conversation with your mother by talking to her about butterfly knife tricks.”

 Derek grimaced and nodded. “I sure know how to pick ‘em.”

 Laura smiled, “Stiles is perfect for you Derek. Everything will turn out just fine.”

 Derek looked Laura, “You really think so, Laur?”

 “Yeah Derek, I do.”

 Derek smiled gratefully and they fell into a companionable silence. Every couple of hours, they switched off letting the other drive so that they would get home soon enough. Altogether it took about nine hours to get home, and as a results both Derek and Laura were bone tired pulling up in front of their family home at the cheerful hour of four in the morning. Immediately, the two went into their separate rooms and collapsed onto their beds. 

 Derek awoke the next morning, or according to the clock on his bedside table, when he awoke the next afternoon, he found himself staring at a pair of ice blue eyes. Derek shot up and grabbed the dog by the scruff. The dark gray dog began to lick Derek’s face even as he tried to push it away.

 The dog got his front paws onto the edge of the mattress and with a heave from its back legs, it leapt onto the bed and stood over Derek, licking his face.

 Derek pushed at the dog’s chest in a futile attempt to get him off. “You stupid dog, get the fuck off.” Derek grunted. Finally Derek gave up and swung his legs off the bed and standing up, effectively dumping the dog onto the floor. 

 Derek looked down where the dog was sitting, tail wagging, one ear sticking straight up, the other flopped down, tongue lolling out of its mouth. The dog stood, staring at Derek waiting for his signal. Derek sighed and patted his chest with his palms, “Come here you big lug.”

 Standing on all fours, the dog came to just the top of his thigh, but when the dog heaved his front paws onto Derek’s chest, the dog was just able to reach Derek’s face with his long, pink tongue. “Ugh, Sam!”

 Derek tried to dodge the dog’s tongue, but resistance was futile. Derek sighed and gave in to Sam’s tongue. Eventually the dog would get tired of licking him and would return to his place on the ground. 

 Eventually Sam did return to the ground, standing on all fours, tail wagging rapidly back and forth. Derek rolled his eyes at his dog, “All right, all right, we can go for a run.”

 Derek went to his old dresser and pulled out a pair of running shorts, a tank top, and some socks. He pulled on his clothes, laced his shoes and started jogged down the stairs, Sam keeping pace with him. His family was sitting in the living room, Peter’s dog, Dexter, was at Peter’s feet, Talia’s dog, Atticus, was stretched on the couch, and his father’s dog, Sir Tiberius Bartholomew the Third was curled up on Atticus’ back. Laura’s dog was nowhere to be seen, which meant he had probably gotten into her room sometime last night.

 “Hello dear.” His mother walked in from the kitchen, “I would ask what time you got here last night, if the dogs hadn’t gotten up and began scratching at the door to be let out.”

 Derek grimaced. He had forgotten about the sleeping arrangements for the dogs when they were all gone. The dogs, Derek’s dog especially, were communal. They needed others around them, and because Atticus refused to sleep anywhere other than at Talia’s side, the dogs all slept in the master bedroom with his parents.

 “Sorry, we forgot.”

 Derek’s father patted his son on the shoulder, “We know, son. Which is why we let your dogs into your rooms as early as we did. In fact, Hobbes should be waking your sister up right about,” there was a loud thump and a scream and a howl and a few barks, “now.” Moments later Laura came stomping down the stairs, Hobbes, a white Siberian husky with mismatched eyes following her, tail wagging. 

 Derek smiled at his family, “Well, as fun as this has been, I’m gonna go for a run with Sam.”

 Peter looked up from his book, “Would you take Dex with you?”

 Talia nodded, “Atticus could use the exercise.”

 Laura groaned from where she had sat at the dining table, head nestled in the crooks of her elbows, “Take Hobbes. He has way too much energy.”

 Derek looked at his father who had picked up the little black lab puppy with a missing ear, “Don’t look at me. You can take my precious little Barty when you’re done with those monsters.” The puppy yipped his agreement and the whole living room melted. Derek groaned, it would not be fun running with two wolf hybrids, and a Siberian husky, in addition to his own Utonagan would be hard, but doable. Atticus would keep everyone in line. It was Dexter that Derek was worrying about.  Much like his owner and his namesake, he could be unpredictable and bloodthirsty. Derek sighed. Only Peter would name his dog after a serial killer.

 Running through the preserve was Derek’s way of clearing his mind. Running through the preserve with Sam was Derek’s way of relaxing. Running through the preserve with four dogs, two of which were wolf hybrids, and another that was bred to be a sled dog was Derek’s way of distracting himself and working himself to the bone. About twenty minutes into the run, Dex saw a rabbit and chased it. When he came running back with a dead rabbit hanging from his mouth, Derek cursed whoever decided to start breeding German Shepherds with wolves. Obviously someone who hadn’t been able to think things through. 

 In fact, if any of the dogs were going to run off and kill something, Derek would have expected Atticus. Alaskan Malamute and black wolf hybrids were not exactly known for being peaceful creatures, but Atticus was special that way. Hobbes got distracted here and there by running squirrels, but he never chased them. Every time Hobbes made a move to run away, Atticus growled and snapped at Hobbes’ tail. 

 Derek shuddered and remembered every time Atticus had growled and snapped at him. It had never been vicious or dangerous, but it _had_ been when Derek was doing things he shouldn’t have been doing. Atticus had once grabbed onto Derek’s ankle when he had been trying to sneak out. He had kept his jaw clenched until Derek had given up and called out to his mother to call off her vicious beast. 

 Sam though, Sam was a sweetheart. Never chased rabbits, or squirrels, or chipmunks. The only animals Sam had ever tried to eat were pigeons and opossums. All the dogs, in fact, ate opossums. It was why the family kept them around. Sam was the kind of dog that would stretch out across the whole couch and not let anyone sit down. At his fully grown size, Sam thought he was still a puppy and would jump into Derek’s lap and try to curl up which, while adorable for friends and family witnessing the 90 pound Utonagan curl up anywhere, was mainly just uncomfortable for Derek. In fact, out of all the dogs-human pairings around the house, Derek and Sam were probably the closest. Derek’s steps were accompanied by the clack of a dog’s nails wherever he roamed. Derek knew that last night it had probably been Sam who had been the loudest, scratching at the door, trying to get out and see Derek. 

 Derek sighed and felt the packed dirt of the preserve under his feet. His running shoes were old and dusty and his shirt was soaked through with sweat. Derek pushed his sweaty hair away from his face, it was a little later than Derek usually liked it to be for a morning run, but he kept going. He let the world, with its disappointments and problems just fade away. He ran until he was too exhausted to think about Stiles and what had happened. He didn’t want to think; right now, all he wanted to do was run. So run he did.

 When he finally made his way back to the house, his family was sitting, waiting for him. The dogs were winded and made a beeline straight for the water bowls in the corner. When done emptying the bowls, the three of them walked into the living room and collapsed on the floor. Sam was the only one still at Derek’s side. Derek himself must have looked a mess, his shirt was absolutely drenched in sweat. Talia raised an eyebrow at both his appearance and the time, but said nothing. Derek suddenly understood what Stiles meant about eyebrows talking. His fingers itched to type the sentence and send it to Stiles, to tell him the story of his mother’s eyebrows, and his uncle’s crazy dog, and his dad’s puppy, but Derek’s brain kept a tight leash on his fingers. 

 “I’m just, uh,” Derek cleared his throat, “gonna take a shower. Then I’ll be right down.”

 Talia’s look said, _you do that._

 Derek raced upstairs to the shower. Once showered and dressed in a pair of jeans that were more comfortable than stylish and a blue short-sleeve, Derek thundered down the stairs, Sam right on his heels. His family were seated around the kitchen table, their plates piled high with food. Derek made himself a plate of food, “dropped” a piece or two of bacon for his ever present shadow, and made his way to the only open chair left, right next to Laura. 

 “So, Derek, that was some run.” Derek glared at his father.

 Peter smiled and tented his fingers, elbows on the table, “Yes, the last time you ran like that, you came out as bisexual.”

 Derek’s father slapped the table with an open palm, “Ah yes! I remember that! Told us you were dating a guy named Jeremy and that if we didn’t like it, well, shove it up our ass.”

 “Dears,” Talia reprimanded, “the last time Derek ran that long, he told us he had broken up with Jeremy.” 

 Derek’s father gasped, “Derek, you haven’t broken up with Stiles, have you?”

 “No way would Derek ever break up with something that delicious.” Derek wondered seriously if the plea, “But he was so fucking annoying, officer” would be an acceptable motive for murder. Probably not, but it did Derek’s mood wonders to pretend that it was.

 Derek’s father began looking around for his shotgun, “He didn’t break up with you, did he?”

 Peter gasped, “We would really hate to destroy that pretty, little face, and his pretty, pale skin.” At this point, Derek was looking to be signed, sealed, and delivered to prison for the murder of his uncle. Fuck getting away with it, fuck having a good motive. 

 Luckily, Derek’s mother seemed to be adept at keeping her brother from being murdered, “So, what was it Derek? What happened with Stiles?”

 Then, and Derek would have to make sacrifices to the Eyebrow Gods for this, Laura cleared her throat, read Derek’s eyebrows that were definitely screaming, “I’m not ready to talk about it” and said, “It’s me.”

 Three pairs of eyes turned to Laura, shocked that for once, she had apparently dragged her brother home. Laura cleared her throat, and under the table Derek grabbed her hand and held it tight. “Chad broke up with me.” The family sighed no one had been very fond of the long haired guitar player. “And I’m pregnant.” 

 Then all hell broke loose.

 Well, not all hell. Just the hell that included Derek’s father roaring about his shotgun and where he had seen it last, Peter calling as many of his “contacts” as he could, Talia grabbing her sharpest, and most deadly knives—most with questionable legality—and five dogs howling and barking. The noise just served to make Derek’s father roar louder because, apparently, how is anyone supposed to find a goddamn shotgun with the fucking racket that was going on. The calm of the storm, however was the cause of it. The dogs were barking and running around the house, and everything was in chaos. Derek felt almost like taking a picture, and then calling it, “Shit Hitting the Fan” because this was a perfect representation of it.

 Laura sat with Derek, “I think that went well.” 

 Neither of the Hale siblings flinched when their father shouted, “FUCKING HELL! I FINALLY FUCKING FOUND IT. FUCKING CHAD, WATCH THE FUCK OUT.”

 And their mother responded, “OH NO YOU DON’T I’M GETTING HIM FIRST!” and flashing a deadly looking Bowie knife.

 Peter screamed, “MY CONTACT IS ON HER WAY THERE. RIGHT. NOW.”

 Atticus climbed up on the table and began howling.

 Derek looked at Laura, “I think it went better than expected, actually.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay,  
> [ Derek's dog, Sam ](http://img2.findthebest.com/sites/default/files/465/media/images/Utonagan_1_170552.jpg)  
> [ Laura's dog, Hobbes](http://www.dogbreedinfo.com/images2/SiberianHuskyNorm2.jpg)  
> [Talia's wolfdog, Atticus](http://www.dogbreedinfo.com/images25/WolfdogGrayWolfMalamuteGSDTala1year.jpg)  
> [ Peter's dog, Dexter](http://pets4u.info/wp-content/uploads/2014/01/german-shepherd-wolf-mix.jpg)  
> [ Derek's dad's puppy, Sir Tiberius Bartholomew the Third](http://www.prizemyeyes.com/images/black_labrador_pup.jpg)  
> Those are all the dogs. Also, the only dog I've had here is a labrador. And yeah, they are that fucking cute.  
> I would give you a picture of Talia's Bowie knife, but they all look scary as hell. [ Seriously though. ](http://www.ioffer.com/img3/item/214/963/932/combat-bowie-fixed-blade-serrated-rambo-sheath-knife-bn-45b1c.jpg)  
> Also, the [ trebuchet butterfly knife move](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4XSp19JNGSc). Because Talia Hale is a badass with knives.


	12. Derek Spends Some Time at Home, Gets Hit On, and Has a Serious Talk with His Mother

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Derek is still trying to figure out what he wants, so he talks to Laura about it. There is some waching of Lord Of the Rings, Derek gets hit on, oh and Talia Hale has a very serious talk about why exactly the Sheriff of Beacon Hills stared at her like he wanted to shoot someone in her family.
> 
> Oh and there might be a mortally wounded ukulele somewhere.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Guys, I am so, so, so, sorry that this took me so long to update. I got so distracted and busy and this chapter hated me. But I did a writing spree and I've thrown out my plan and let the fic take me where it wants me to go. I'm thinking there is going to be 15 chapters of actual story, then a little epilogue (or two, I haven't really decided).  
> Also, I have officially named Derek's dad. Guys, meet Patrick Hale. 
> 
> As you might have noticed, I am not updating every Wednesday, but as I finish each chapter. 
> 
> As always this has been un-beta'd.
> 
> Comments, kudos, and bookmarks give Derek more puppies to cuddle with.

Laura sighed and rolled her eyes at the general insanity of her family. She slapped her open palms against the table and stood up quickly, the chair falling backwards and hitting the ground with a solid thud. 

“No one, is killing anyone. With any type of weapon, poison, explosive, or deadly allergen.” She looked pointedly at the Hales around her. They all looked crestfallen.

Peter sighed and spoke into the phone, “Abort mission.”

He listened thoughtfully for a second, “No. We can’t kill him.”

He sighed again, “My niece is forbidding it.”

Peter whimpered, then put a hand around the mouthpiece to talk to Laura, “Apparently, he’s singing a mashup of John Mayer to a girl. In bed. On his pink ukulele. Can she kill him now?”

“No.”

“But—”

“No Peter.”

Peter sighed and returned to the phone, “You still can’t shoot him.” Peter glared at Laura, “Apparently, being a massive, pretentious douchebag is not grounds for murder.”

Peter made a sympathetic noise into the phone, “I know!” He groaned and turned to Laura. “Now he’s singing a mashup of ‘Over the Rainbow’ and ‘I’m Yours.’ My contact _really_ wants to shoot him.”

“She can’t shoot him, Peter.”

“Why not?”

“Pretentiousness is a not a motive for murder. If it was, professors everywhere would be watching their backs.”

Peter sighed again, “Fine.” He returned his attention to the phone, “Stand down.” There was a pause, “If you don’t stand down, I’ll tell Coulson.” Peter winced and took the phone from his ear. There was a long, loud stream of very angry Russian being spewed through the phone. Peter looked at Laura, “Can she shoot the ukulele?”

Laura smiled, Chad loved that ukulele. “Yes, yes she can. But she has to wait until he puts the ukulele down and the bullet won’t hurt anyone.”

Peter smiled, “You can shoot the ukulele. If it won’t injure anyone else.”

There was a pause. Peter smiled and turned to Laura, “Target acquired.” There was a minute pause, “Target terminated.” Peter hung up the phone. 

Laura gestured to the shotgun that was still in her father’s hands and the knives that her mother still held, “Put your weaponry away and come give me a hug.”

The Hales sighed and put down their deadly weaponry. And enveloped Laura in a hug. The only one not in the hug was Derek, who was trying to get Atticus off the table. Which wasn’t working. Because the wolf-dog was a contrary bastard. 

Laura snorted from inside the pile of Hales, “Come here, you loser.”

Derek rolled his eyes and joined in on the hug. The three older Hales separated from the group to put their various weaponry in areas more secure than the dining room floor. 

When it was just Derek and Laura left in the room, Derek turned to Laura and said, “Thanks for covering.”

“No problem. But, you have to tell them eventually.”

“I know. Can I just enjoy being home for a little bit?”

“Of course, Der-Bear. But you have to go back to school on Monday.”

Derek sighed and scrubbed a hand over his face, “I know.”

“And there you’ll have to confront Stiles.”

“I know.”

“Do you know what you’re going to do?”

“No clue.”

Laura sighed, “Der—”

“I know, Laura. I know.”

The two siblings stared at each other for a moment longer, then crushed each other into a hug. “Love you, sis.”

“Love you too, bro.”

Peter ended up wandering off to terrorize the rabbit population of Beacon Hills with Dex. At least that was what the rest of the Hales assumed, he put away his weaponry, and had since been found nowhere in the house or the surrounding property. Talia and Patrick made the announcement that they needed to buy more groceries, because they had not expected having their children visiting for the weekend. Talia waved goodbye to her children and pulled her husband out the door. Once again, the two siblings were alone in the house, surrounded by four dogs. One of whom was still on the table. 

Laura sighed, “You pick a movie.”

“You sure about that?” 

Laura rolled her eyes and flopped down on the couch, and clapped her hands as if Derek was her unruly servant.

In an unsurprising twist of events, Derek chose Return of the King, because that was his favorite of the trilogy.

“It’s so not the best.”

“Shut up, Laura.”

“You just love it because Viggo Mortenson is hot in this one.”

Derek snorted, “Viggo Mortenson is hot in all of them.”

Laura sneered, “I’m surprised you didn’t pick The Amazing Spiderman. We all know how much you love, brown haired, brown eyed, lanky, nerdy, and sassy.”

Derek flushed furiously and tried not to think about Stiles in the Spider-Man costume. Yeah, it totally wasn’t working. 

Laura laughed at her brother’s deep red flush. “How many times has he pretended to be Spider-Man?”

Derek flushed even more. He groaned and covered his face with his hands.

Laura smirked, “Or does he like Batman more? Are you his Catwoman, Der-Bear?” 

Derek rolled his eyes, “Everyone knows that Erica has claimed Catwoman for life.”

Laura giggled, “Looks like you have competition.”

“For Stiles? Nahh he wouldn’t go up against Boyd if you paid him.”

Laura laughed then leaned over and laid her head on Derek’s shoulder. They sat in silence for a bit, watching as Pippin picked up Saruman’s _palantír_ at which point Derek said, “dammit Pippin.”

Laura snorted, “You get way too into this movie.”

“No I don’t.”

“Yes you do. You are so obsessed with this movie that it’s ridiculous. I don’t even know how you get laid.”

“I am not obsessed with Lord of the Rings.”

Laura snorted and pointed at Sam who was resting at Derek’s feet, “You named your dog Samwise Gamgee.”

“At least I didn’t name mine after a fictional stuffed tiger.”

“Still named yours after a fictional hobbit.”

Derek flipped her off and turned back to the movie to watch at Pippin rode off with Gandalf on Shadowfax. 

Just then Derek’s phone vibrated with an incoming text:

_From: Hat Thief_

Hey, it’s Scott. Stiles didn’t want to text you, so I stole his phone. Stiles almost had a panic attack when you left, and then he wouldn’t talk to me. But, he feels really bad about what happened. He was totally going to tell you about it, but he didn’t know how you’d react. Dude, he really cares about you. So at least talk to him about it. 

Derek stared at the text.

 When Laura noticed that Derek was no longer paying attention to the movie, she paused it and turned to her brother, “What is it?”

“It’s Scott.”

“What did he say?”

Derek handed her the phone. “I don’t know what to say back.”

Laura sat up and folded her legs beneath her, “What do you want Stiles to know?”

“I want him to know that I really care about him too and that of course I’ll talk to him about it,” he paused and ran a hand through his already mussed hair, “I left because I was worried how I might talk to him. I don’t have the best track record when it comes to these kinds of conversations and I didn’t want to say anything to him that I didn’t mean.”

Laura smiled, “Tell him that.”

Derek pulled up a new message to respond to Scott:

_To: Hat Thief_

Hey Scott. I appreciate you telling me what is going on with Stiles. He’s okay, right? I just wanted to say that I really care about him too. I left because I didn’t want to say anything to him that I didn’t mean that would make him feel worse about everything. I realize now that maybe leaving like that wasn’t the best idea, but at the time it was the best I could do. I was planning on talking to him as soon as I get back. Which should hopefully be Monday morning. 

Derek handed the phone to Laura, “Does that sound okay? I don’t sound like a dick, right?”

Laura read it over and handed it back to Derek, “I think it sounds good. But will he be around Monday morning?”

Derek snorted, “Stiles goes through great pains every semester to ensure that he never has classes on Monday until after three.”

Laura smiled, “You guys are perfect for each other.”

Derek felt a small smile ghost across his face, “We are, aren’t we?”

The front door slammed open with a rustle of plastic bags and Patrick Hale booming, “I HAVE FOOD!” with Talia behind him laughing. 

Laura rolled her eyes and slapped Derek on the knee, “Come on, Der, we can talk about your disgusting I’m-in-love-with-Stiles-Stilinski face later.”

Talia, who had heard the last part of Laura’s sentence cooed at her son, “You’re in love with Stiles Stilinski, are you?”

Patrick walked up behind his wife and clasped her shoulders, “Have you told him or are you playing stoic he-man?”

Laura grabbed the milk and turned to the fridge, “Or does everyone already know even though you haven’t said a word?”

Talia grabbed a package of bacon and tossed it to Patrick so that he could put it in the freezer, “Leave him alone.” She grabbed three apples out of a bag and arranged them on the fruit holder, “Don’t listen to them Derek. You don’t have to tell us.” She grabbed some granola out of another bag and headed over to the pantry to put it away with the other food, “What you do have to tell us is the story of your first kiss.”

“Oohh,” Laura pulled her head out of the fridge where she had been rearranging food that they could fit everything, “I like that idea! Tell us about the first kiss!”

Derek grabbed some carrots and tomatoes, “No.”

Patrick pulled out a package of steak, “Oh come on Derek! Share with your family!”

“No.”

Laura leaned on the butcher block in the center of the kitchen, “You’re being a party pooper.”

Derek raised an eyebrow at his sister, “Well, luckily for me, I like being a party pooper.”

Laura arched an eyebrow at her brother and said nothing. Talia looked at her children and raised both her eyebrows at them. Patrick turned and saw his family making all sorts of ridiculous faces at each other and decided to join the eyebrow party. He waggled his eyebrows.

 Peter emerged from the garage, looked at his family in the kitchen who were just staring pointedly and communicating with their eyebrows, and headed toward the stairs muttering, “I’m the only normal one in this family.” Which was strange because Dex was following him, holding half a rabbit in his mouth. 

Derek’s father noticed, somewhat belatedly, that Peter’s dog was carrying in a dead animal, and broke away from the eyebrow party to yell at his brother-in-law. 

Once Derek’s father left, the eyebrow party seemed to disintegrate into actually putting away groceries like they were supposed to. Once they were done, Laura and Derek excused themselves to go finish watching their movie. Talia waved them off with a hand while she took the time to glance over the newspaper and the ads. 

Derek had just pressed play on their movie when they heard their mother shout from the dining room, “Why the hell is Atticus still on the damn table?!?!?!” Her exclamation was followed by the scrabbling of dog nails on wood and then a loud thump as Atticus hit the ground. 

Derek and Laura laughed as Atticus trotted through the living room and flopped onto a love seat, looking very pleased with himself. Talia popped her head in to see what her children were watching. 

When she saw Viggo Mortenson appear on camera, she sat in the other love seat and said, lovingly, “He’s on my list.”

“Your list?” Derek asked.

“Yes, my list of celebrities I can sleep with if I ever have the chance to.”

“You have one of those?”

Talia snorted, “Of course I do.” She paused, “Your father has one too, I believe.”

“What do I have, love?” Patrick waltzed in and sat next to Talia, immediately wrapping an arm around her shoulder.

“Your list of freebies.”

Patrick nodded, “Ahh yes.”

Laura perked up, “Who’s on it?”

Patrick tapped his chin, “Jennifer Aniston, Sandra Bullock, Cate Blanchett, Nicole Kidman, and Marisa Tomei.”

“That’s actually a very nice list.” Peter said, coming into the room to jump onto the couch with Laura and Derek. 

Then everyone turned to Talia, “Who’s on your list, mom?”

“Viggo Mortenson, Chris Hemsworth, Karl Urban, Anthony Michael Jones, and Johnny Depp.”

Everyone turned to Derek, “How about you, Derek?”

Derek shrugged, “No one, really.”

Then his family began throwing out celebrities:

“Andrew Garfield?” 

“No.”

“Tom Hiddleston?”

“No.”

“Benedict Cumberbatch? Brad Pitt?”

“No and no.”

“Emma Watson? Jennifer Lawrence?”

“No, no.”

“Martin Freeman? Chris Pine? Colin Firth? Emma Stone?”

“No, no, no, no.”

His family continued saying celebrities, both male and female, some were even dead, until finally Derek threw his hands in the air exclaimed, “I only want Stiles. I don’t need all those famous people if I have Stiles.” He looked at his family, “Now can we please get back to the movie?”

That stopped everyone with celebrities only half said. 

Peter had paused at, “Colin” and Laura had paused at “David.”

Patrick turned to look at Talia, “Would you look at that. Our son is more in love than we are.” At which point Talia elbowed him in the stomach. 

Patrick’s little “Oomph” and exhalation of air got the room laughing again, just in time to watch Aragorn storm Minas Tirith with the Army of the Dead. The rest of the movie was spent in silence, with only Peter making comments about how gay Sam and Frodo were. 

By the time the movie was over, it was decided that everyone was too lazy to use the fresh groceries to make dinner so they went out to a popular diner to eat burgers and drink their weight in milkshakes. 

Derek leaned back from the sticky, yellowing table and patted his flat stomach, “I’m definitely going to have to go for a run tomorrow.”

Laura punched him in the shoulder, “Shut up.”

He lifted up his shirt slightly to expose the lower portion of his abs, “What? I can’t keep eating like this and then start slacking on my routine.”

Everyone at the table rolled their eyes, except for their waitress who batted fake eyelashes at him and giggled. She leaned forward to touch him on the bicep and inevitably flirt with him. Derek leaned away from her reaching hand and stared at her neon pink acrylic nails. The waitress blushed furiously and ran away. It was then that Derek noticed that his family was laughing at him. 

He scowled, “What?” He looked behind him and noticed that he was leaning directly in front of Laura. His head was nearly under his chin and he was close to laying in her lap. Just to get away from the waitress. Derek flushed slightly and pushed himself straight. 

Laura was laughing so hard she snorted, “Did you see that? He looked so horrified!” 

Peter wiped his eyes, “I could see the thoughts flashing through his head, ‘get away from me, skanky ho.’”

Talia chuckled, “I do believe that Stiles would be very proud of that.”

Derek blushed.“Can we pay the bill so we can leave?”

Talia laughed at him, “I think I want to see what other people come to hit on you.”

Derek groaned and slouched in his seat, “Evil. Everyone in my family is evil.” 

Laura patted him on the shoulder and said, “You wouldn’t have us any other way.”

After his parents had finally paid the bill and they had all found their way back home, Peter had yawned and said something about his day being exhausting before retreating to his room for the night. The rest of the Hales just stared at the nearest clock, it was only 7:30. Peter _never_ went to bed before 11:00. They stared at each other for a moment, then made an unwritten, unspoken vow to ignore any sounds coming from Peter’s room for the rest of the night. The rest of the Hales picked up the living room. There were blankets and pillows and together, the four Hales replaced pillows and refolded blankets. They took dog hair off the couches and by the time they were done, it was 8:30 and the dogs all wanted their dinner. 

Derek and Laura pushed their parents up the stairs saying, “Go, get ready for bed, sleep, change, shower, and we will take care of the dogs.”

The elder Hales looked gratefully at their children and went up the stairs to the master bedroom. Once they had turned the corner at the top of the staircase, Laura clapped her hands together and called to the dogs. They came from various parts of the house, Dex came charging down the stairs, followed by Hobbes. Atticus walked in from the dining room, and Sam nudged open the front door with Sir Bartholomew right on his heels. Dex continued past Laura straight to the garage where he was normally fed with Atticus. Sam and Hobbes were usually fed together in the backyard and because he was still a puppy, Sir Bartholomew was usually fed in the kitchen.

 Laura went to the garage to feed the wolf-dogs and Derek first added food to Sir Bartholomew’s bowl, then started toward the backdoor to feed the last two. Sir Bartholomew, however, had other plans; he began to whine and follow Derek. Derek sighed, picked up the puppy, and returned him to the kitchen. As soon as the pup was put down, he trotted over to Derek and began whining at his feet. After several tries to get Sir Bartholomew, Derek finally gave up and carried the puppy outside. Sir Bartholomew stayed cradled in his arms while he fed Sam and Hobbes. 

After about a minute of watching the larger dogs inhaled their food, Sir Bartholomew began to squirm. Derek muttered and set him down on the ground. Immediately, the puppy began sniffing around the backyard, exploring the large area. He began to get further and further away from Derek, if the puppy went too much further he would be lost in the forest. Derek jogged forward to grab the puppy and keep it from running away into the forest. As soon as his little legs were off the ground, the little bastard began wriggling and writhing in Derek’s hands. Derek grunted and carried the wriggling mass of fur back to the porch where he sat on the steps with the squirming puppy. He sat there, watched as Hobbes and Sam finished eating, and clutched Sir Bartholomew to his chest to keep the pest from running back to the forest. 

It was only once Sir Bartholomew gave up on his mad quest to get himself lost in the preserve that Derek was finally able to relax his grip. When Sam and Hobbes had finished, Derek stood up and led the group of dogs back into the house. Hobbes went up the stairs to the master bedroom and when Derek looked at Laura who was splayed across an armchair reading a book, she gestured that Dex and Atticus had already gone upstairs. Derek filled a bowl of food for Sir Bartholomew and went to the living room to relax on the couch. Sam, of course, followed him and insisted upon laying on the couch so that his face was up by Derek’s chin; leading, of course, to Sam reaching out with his tongue to lick Derek straight on the mouth. 

“BLEGH!” Derek glared down at his dog who was looking at him innocently, “Dammit Sam, you’re the worst.”

Laura snorted from her spot in the armchair, “He’s just showing affection.”

Derek glared at his sister but the effect was ruined when Sam smeared another group of licks from Derek’s chin to his forehead, back down, back up, and back down. 

Laura was too busy cackling to hear the small whimpers of Sir Bartholomew but Derek saw the puppy out of the corner of his eye. The poor thing was trying to get up the stairs but was too short. His two front paws were just on the edge of the first step but his back legs were scrabbling for purchase on the floor. Derek chuckled and pushed Sam off his chest to go help the pup. Sir Bartholomew had just fallen onto his butt when Derek scooped him up and carried him to the top of the stairs. Atticus was waiting at the top of the stairs for the puppy and looking at Derek as if trying to say, “I was trying to make him do it by himself.” Derek rolled his eyes at the wolf-dog and put the puppy down on the ground. As soon as his little legs touched the ground, Sir Bartholomew was off and running toward the master bedroom. Atticus huffed and followed the energetic at a slower pace. Derek smiled at the antics of the two dogs. Then he sighed and returned the living room to sit with Laura.

As soon as he walked back into the living room and resettled himself onto the couch Laura put her book down and leaned forward to her forearms were resting on her thighs.

“We need to talk.”

“Why?” Derek an eyebrow, “Are you breaking up with me?”

“Be serious Derek.” She worried her bottom with her teeth, “We need to talk what you’re going to do about Stiles.”

Derek froze, “I can handle it, Laura. When I get back I’m going to talk to him.”

“No, dumbass.” Laura rolled her eyes, “We’ve discussed that. What are you going to tell mom and dad?”

“Nothing. They won’t even know if I’m lucky.”

Laura just stared at Derek, “Derek, when have you ever been lucky?”

“I’ll handle it if it comes to that. Why worry about it if they say nothing about it.”

“They’re going to find out eventually.”

“Then we will just figure it out when eventually happens.”

“Derek—”

Derek held a hand up to stop his sister, “I appreciate the advice and the help, but just leave it.” He stood up.

“But—”

Derek growled, “No buts. Just leave it, Laura.”

Laura reached forward to grab his elbow but Derek jerked his arm back. “Fine.” Laura’s eyes narrowed and she crossed her arms across her chest, “Be that way.” She pointed at him with her index finger. “But when Mom and Dad find out and they start grilling you about it, don’t look to me for help.”

“I won’t.”

“Good.”

“Good.”

They stared at each other, arms crossed over their chests. Derek broke the gaze and stomped up to his room, Sam following him closely. He pushed his door closed and flopped down onto his bed. 

 Sam jumped up onto the bed—even though he technically wasn’t supposed to—and curled up next to where Derek’s head was pillowed on his crossed forearms. Derek absently reached out with a hand and rubbed at Sam’s ears. Without Derek even realizing how tired he was, he drifted off to sleep, hand still curled around Sam’s head.

Derek awoke the next morning to his mother slamming open his bedroom door. 

“What the fuck did you do to the Sheriff’s son?”

Derek blinked the sleep from his eyes and ran a hand through his hair. “What?”

Derek’s father came bursting through the doorway next. “What the hell did you do to Stiles?”

Derek looked at Sam who seemed to be staring at him judgmentally, “Why do you think I did something to him?”

Peter came in and joined the party, “It might have something to do with the fact that your parents saw the Sheriff and he stared at them and then put his hand on his gun and shook his head. Why would he do that, Talia?”

“I don’t know, Peter. Maybe we should ask Patrick. Why would he do that, Patrick?”

“I don’t know, Talia. Maybe we should ask Laura. Why would he do that, Laura?”

“I don’t know, Dad. Maybe we should ask Sam. Why would he do that, Sam?”

Then Sam, the fucking traitor, looked straight at Derek. Now all the focus was on him. Great.

His mother was staring at him, arms crossed, foot tapping, waiting for him to explain himself.

“I might have… um…. Stiles and I…… uhhhh… You see…” Derek rubbed his forehead then pushed back his hair.

“What did you do.” Talia’s voice was hard, uncompromising. 

“Stiles, he… It was….. I was…. He…” Derek broke off and hung his head. 

Talia turned and pushed everyone out the door, then she placed Atticus outside the door to keep the nosy Hales from eavesdropping. She made her way over to Derek and sat next to him on the bed.

She curled her arm around his shoulder and said in a soft voice, “D’you want to tell me what Stiles did?”

Derek huffed out a long breath, “Scott thought I knew about it. He thought Stiles had told me.”

“Told you what?” 

“About the Ten Year Plan. At least, that’s what Scott called it. He just mentioned it off handedly. But Stiles, I mean, he _knew_. He knows about Kate. What she did. How she manipulated everything that we were.”

Derek paused and Talia rubbed at his back.

“And I just. I felt so manipulated, you know? I know objectively that no one made me fall in love with him, that my favorite things about him aren’t manipulated facts. But I can’t help but feel manipulated.”

Talia rested her chin on Derek’s shoulder. “So what happened next?”

Derek swallowed, “I left. I told him that I felt manipulated and hurt and that I needed some time to myself. I told him that we had to talk, but when I had calmed down.” Derek turned and rested his forehead against his mother’s collarbone. “I didn’t want to say something that would hurt the both of us. I didn’t want to lash out with my words. I mean, whenever I’ve done that before it hasn’t ended well.” Derek took a deep breath, “Then I called Laura and we came home.” 

The two sat in silence until Derek lifted his head from where it was resting on his mother and shifted away from her. Talia let her arm fall to her side.

“Derek, I’m proud of you. You communicated what you were feeling and what you needed in the moment.” Derek stared at the floor and nodded, “Now you just have to figure out what you need now.”

“I came home because it was a safe place, and that’s what I needed. But now I think I need Stiles. I need to talk to him, I need to hear his side of the story. I need to see him. To be reassured that it wasn’t fake, because I know that it wasn’t. I just, I think I just need to hear him say it.”

Talia nodded, “Then go.” Derek jumped off the bed and stared collecting the little things that he had brought with him. He was just heading out the door when his mother called out to him. He spun around to look at her still sitting on his bed. 

“It was nice to see you. And don’t forget to bring that Stilinski boy home one of these days.”

Derek smiled and laughed as he thundered down the stairs. “Come on Laura. We’re leaving.”

Laura snorted, “I was actually thinking of spending a little time here.” She grabbed her keys from her purse. “You take the Camaro. I’ve been looking to get something more efficient anyway.” She threw them at Derek, who caught them in midair.

Derek beamed, “Cool, thanks sis.”

Then he started toward the door.

“Derek!” Laura called, Derek turned to look at her, “Go get’im.” 

Derek smiled and ran to the Camaro. He jumped inside and started the engine. He looked at the porch of his childhood home, filled with family and dogs, and left. 

On his way back to school he stopped at a little diner on the side of the road. The waiter leaned in and hit on him, asking if he wanted to go out some time. Derek thought back to the picture of his family on the porch, each one with their dog nearby and placed Stiles into the picture easily. Stiles had a dog of his own, with a ridiculous name, something like Mace Windu, or Bruce Wayne, or Alfred, or some combination thereof. His dog would spend as much as possible with Sam and would stay as far away from Dex as he could. He would annoy the hell out of Hobbes and suck up to Atticus by being nice to Sir Bartholomew. Derek heard someone clearing their throat and started out of his reverie. 

He opened his mouth to answer but was cutoff. 

“No. Don’t bother turning me down.” His waiter smiled, “Whoever puts that smile on your face, I don’t want to get between that. You feel me?” Then he walked away.

Derek looked down at the coffee that had been placed in front of him and thought about how long the drive back to Stiles would take. He took out his wallet, threw down a ten and left the diner. He’d stop at a drive-thru along the way. He pulled out his phone and tapped out a quick text.

_To: Hat Thief_

I’m coming back today. I need to see you. I missed you. 

Derek pondered if he should add more, but decided against it. He pressed send and was on the road again. When Derek got a message back, he smiled and drove faster. 

_From: Hat Thief_

I’ve missed you too. A lot.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay guys, I have a lot of projects I'm working on. And by "projects" I mean Teen Wolf fics that I'm really excited about. That's part of why I'm always so slow at updating, I have a lot of ideas jumping around in my head, but I want to finish this one before I start working on the other ones. But at the same time the others want to be written. So I'm finishing this fic, then taking a break to write and maybe finish some of the others that I have in mind and then I will post them. 
> 
> As always, you can check out my multi-fandom personal blog [ here ](a-love-story-across-fandoms.tumblr.com) or you can check out my wondrous Teen Wolf fic rec blog [ here. ](wheredidhiseyebrowsgo.tumblr.com)
> 
> P.S. Did anyone catch/infer who shot the ukulele?
> 
> P.S.S. Okay guys, I'm working on the next chapter now, it's almost done, but as just a general question, to get some feelers out, what would you say to some sexy times between Derek and Stiles? Because that might be a thing that's possible. Oh god guys, sexy times are imminent. I repeat: SEXY TIMES ARE IMMINENT.


	13. Derek Returns, Stiles Starts from the Beginning, and They Break a Rule or so Along the Way (a.k.a. They do the Do Where They're Not Supposed To)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So back in Chapter 4 there was some dancing and I said that that was the closest I'd probably ever get to writing smut, I lied. Derek comes back and there are some smutty things that happen. Also, Stiles has some stories to tell, errrr, re-tell.
> 
> Comments, kudos, and bookmarks for smutty things.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, as you can see, the rating has been changed to Explicit, so yeah sexy times happen. I'm not very good at judging ratings, so if y'all think it's more suited to the mature rating, then I will change it back. If you also want me to put a break for the sexy times, I can do that. Also, have mercy on me, this is my first time ever writing smut.

Derek screeched to a stop in front of Stiles’ house. He shut off the ignition and threw open the driver’s side door. He grabbed his keys and jogged around to the front of the car. He looked up and the front door of Stiles’ house flew open. Stiles was standing there, dressed in pajama pants and threadbare cotton t-shirt. There were dark circles under his eyes and he was pale. So, so, pale. Stiles let out a little squeak and Derek ran. He ran onto the side walk and up the stairs. He ran straight into Stiles and hugged him. Stiles’ arms came up around Derek and Stiles slumped against him. Derek leaned back and pressed his dry lips against Stiles’ forehead, then traced the line down his temple, across his cheekbone, to his nose, down across his other cheekbone. He followed the line of Stiles’ jaw to his chin, and down his neck where Derek nestled his nose into Stiles’ collarbone.

It was then that Derek noticed that Stiles’ mouth was moving. He focused on the words. “I’m sorry. I’m so, so, so, so, sorry, Derek. I should have told you. Like forever ago. I should have mentioned it. I should have told you about it. I honestly forgot about it. I’m sorry. I missed you. Please don’t leave. I missed you.” Stiles was breathless, his voice low, whispered, and feverish. 

Derek nodded against Stiles’ collarbone and lifted his head. Derek looked at those beautiful brown eyes that were beginning to fill with tears. “Shhh, it’s okay. I’m the one who should be sorry. I shouldn’t have run off like that. I should have stayed nearby at least. I’m sorry.” Derek pressed a dry kiss to Stiles’ forehead, “I’m sorry,” a kiss to one cheekbone, “I’m sorry,” to the other cheekbone, “I’m sorry,” to his nose, “I’m sorry,” Derek brushed a final kiss just barely against Stiles’ mouth. 

Stiles slumped even more against Derek. His hands clutched at the back of Derek’s shirt, bunching it and pulling it tight. He buried his face against Derek’s shoulder, hair brushing Derek’s chin. Derek realized suddenly that they were still outside. He went to try to shuffle Stiles inside the house, but Stiles wasn’t budging. So Derek sighed and pulled Stiles’ long legs up and around Derek’s waist. Stiles went willingly, legs folding easily around Derek’s hips, head still tucked against Derek’s neck. 

Derek walked them easily into the house, closing the door behind them. He made his way to the couch. He saw a flash of Scott who looked at Stiles wrapped around Derek’s torso, and ran for the back door. 

Derek could feel the heat of fresh tears seep through the cotton of his t-shirt as he sat back on the couch with Stiles still positioned in his lap. He shifted Stiles’ legs so that Stiles’ knees were still locked around Derek’s hips but his shins were resting comfortably on the couch cushion. Derek rubbed his hands over Stiles’ back down then up again, following the line of Stiles’ spine and feeling every shuddering breath that he took. 

Slowly, Stiles’ breaths got deeper and slower. They stopped forcing his body into a shudder at every exhale and Stiles’ limbs became loose and relaxed. Derek tipped his head back to look at his boyfriend. Stiles’ eyes were closed and his breath was coming out evenly. Derek sighed, Stiles had fallen asleep on him, but he didn’t really mind all that much. He contemplated getting up and putting Stiles in his bed, but then Derek would have to carry him up stairs and try not to wake him, and while all that was possible—Stiles was a very heavy sleeper—Derek found that he was beginning to feel drowsy as well. So instead, Derek shifted Stiles so that his legs were sprawled out in one direction on the couch. Derek brought his legs up onto the couch so that their legs were tangled together. Then he leaned to the side, hand clutched around the back of Stiles’ head to keep from jostling it too much, and brought his body down beside Stiles’. Derek shoved his back against the inside of the couch and pillowed Stiles’ head on his arm which he brought around to curl around Stiles’ back. Stiles was curled up on the couch, face still tucked against Derek’s neck, arms tucked against his chest, hands clutching Derek’s shirt. Derek looked down at Stiles, smiled, ran a hand through Stiles’ brown hair, and closed his eyes. 

When Derek awoke, he was on his back and Stiles was stretched out along the front of his body. Stiles’ forearms were folded, resting on Derek’s chest, and Stiles’ chin was propped up on one of his wrists. Stiles was awake and staring at Derek. 

Derek smiled and said softly, “Hey.” 

Stiles beamed, “Hey there, sleepyhead.”

“Sleepyhead? You’re the one who fell asleep first.”

Stiles flushed, “I haven’t been sleeping all that well.”

Derek leaned his neck up and pecked Stiles on the nose with a kiss, “I’m glad I could help.”

Derek swallowed and looked at Stiles, “Look, I’m so sorry—”

Stiles stopped him with a finger against his mouth, “We both made mistakes, okay? I definitely should have told you about that whole stupid Ten Year Plan before you heard it from someone else. And you probably shouldn’t have run home like you did. I know, you needed distance and that’s okay. You told me what you needed and why you needed it. It’s okay.”

“Stiles, it’s not okay. I should have been able to stay and talk to you—”

Stiles stopped him from continuing, “Don’t apologize for what you feel and how you process it. You process it better alone and that’s okay. Driving all the way home to process it probably wasn’t the best idea you’ve ever had,” Derek chuckled at that, “but now you know and you can handle it better next time, okay?”

Derek sighed and nodded. He leaned up and touched his forehead to Stiles’, “When did you get this smart?”

Stiles snorted, “I’ve always been this smart, dude.” He looked thoughtfully at Derek for a moment then, “So, what do you need now? You needed space before, what do you need now? The whole story, a blowjob, a slideshow about my feelings for you, a flash mob, a cookie, a pizza, a giant cookie cake?” 

Derek shook his head, “You. I just need you.”

Stiles flushed, “In what kind of way? Because Scott and I promised, no sexy times on this couch, and I’m really comfortable and I kinda don’t want to get up. So if you need me in a sexy time kind of way, you’re gonna have to carry me up the stairs to a sexy time approved area of the house.”

Derek rolled his eyes, “I just needed to see you, talk to you, hold you, touch you,” Stiles opened his mouth but Derek cut him off, “in a non-sexy time inducing way.”

Stiles snorted, “Dude, literally anytime you touch me induces sexy times. You know it does.”

Derek huffed, “It does not.”

“Are we remembering the time in the kitchen that Scott never wants to think about,” at Derek’s blank stare, Stiles smiled and continued, “y’know the time where you patted my head, then ran your hand down my neck and my back. So then I touched your—”

Derek slammed a palm down on Stiles’ mouth. Which, of course, resulted in Stiles licking Derek’s hand to be released from his prison. When Derek let go Stiles leaned forward and kissed Derek. But unlike the earlier kisses that had been apologies, this kiss was full of intent. Intent which Scott had explicitly outlawed on that exact couch. Derek groaned and Stiles’ tongue swept in, caressing and chasing Derek’s. Derek’s tongue met Stiles’ in a battle, a tango, a waltz, a slow and steady ebb and flow, a push and pull of lazy persuasion. 

Derek’s hands came up and grasped Stiles’ hips. Stiles’ knees moved to straddle Derek’s hips and grinding their pelvises together. Stiles’ back was arched over Derek, still laying flat on his back on the couch, forearms braced on either side of Derek’s head. Stiles’ hips were rocking slightly against Derek’s, brushing their hardening cocks together. Derek bent his knee and slid his foot along the couch cushion, then he moved a hand from Stiles’ hip to the short hairs at the base of his neck. In one fluid movement, Derek heaved himself up and flipped the two of them so that he was laying on top of Stiles. 

Now Stiles was laying with his legs hooked around Derek’s waist, forearms draped over Derek’s shoulder, fingers scrabbling for purchase on Derek’scotton t-shirt. Derek plastered himself against Stiles’ front, the hot palm of his hand searing the small sliver of skin just above the waistband of Stiles’ pajama pants. 

Stiles arced up, trying to get closer to the man already plastered against his chest. His hands moved down Derek’s torso, headed toward the hem of Derek’s shirt. “Off, off, off,” Stiles mumbled against Derek’s lips.

Derek reared back on his knees and Stiles whimpered at the loss of Derek’s heat. Derek smiled at the flushed man beneath him and gestured for Stiles to take of his shirt. Stiles scrambled at the hem of his shirt, pulling it off frantically, revealing his pale, mole studded torso. Derek waited until Stiles’ eyes were back on him, then grabbed the bottom hem of his shirt and stripped it off. Instantly Derek’s body was back, covering Stiles’ body, mouth attacking Stiles’ with a new fervor. 

Stiles’ hands glided up and down, feeling the muscles shift and move as Derek groaned and moved above him. One of Stiles’ legs released Derek’s hips and his foot moved down to caress Derek’s calf. 

Derek released Stiles’ swollen lips and moved down his neck. He paused to suck marks along Stiles’ pale collarbone as he went, biting then soothing the sting with licks and tender kisses. Stiles moaned and groaned, torso and body bucking into Derek’s mouth, encouraging him to go further. So he did.

Derek’s mouth traced and licked its way down Stiles’ chest. He dragged his lips down then paused to lick and worship a spot, before stopping and going back up to another untouched spot on Stiles’ chest.Derek finally made his way to the sensitive skin around Stiles’ belly button. 

Stiles whimpered as Derek nipped and licked the skin just above the waistband of Stiles’ pajama pants. “Oh god, please, please, Derek,” Stiles’ hips bucked and Derek chuckled, “oh God, you’re suck a fucking tease.”

Derek lifted his head and smirked from right above Stiles’ straining erection, “Freudian slip?”

Stiles would swear until the end of his days that his cock did not twitch a little at the smirk and raised eyebrow, “No,” Stiles said, hips bucking again, “more like a thinly veiled suggestion.”

Derek chuckled then did something that had Stiles cursing and threading his fingers through Derek’s soft black hair. He leaned down and lick along the length of Stiles’ cloth covered cock. Then Derek did something that had Stiles cursing even more. He moved his mouth back up to one of Stiles’ nipples.

“Derek,” Stiles whined, “please, please, please, please.”

Derek looked up from from where his mouth was locked on Stiles’ nipple, “Please what, Stiles?”

Stiles whined again, his kiss swollen mouth dropping open, “Please suck me.”

Derek smiled again, then leaned down and sucked at Stiles’ sternum. He sucked at the pale skin hard, leaving a bright red mark. Stiles yelped and arched into the somewhat painful love bite. Stiles fingers clenched and pulled and Derek’s hair. Derek lifted his head at stared at Stiles, his pupils were blown, his cheeks were flushed a dark red, his lips were swollen and red, and he had Derek’s marks tracing a debauched trail up his torso. 

“Derek,” Stiles huffed, voice husky and cracked, “please, please, suck my cock.”

Derek groaned and slid down Stiles’ torso, kissing at previously made marks as he went. When he had reached the waistband of Stiles’ pants again, he licked at where Stiles’ erection strained at the fabric. Stiles moaned and watched, entranced, as Derek tugged the waistband over Stiles’ leaking cock.

Derek raised an eyebrow and ran his hands up and down Stiles' thighs, “Commando?”

Stiles nodded helplessly, focused on his dick and Derek’s mouth that was just hovering there. “It’s payback?”

Derek cocked his head, his stubble grazed the leaking head, and his hands still tickled along the inner of Stiles' thighs, “For what?”

“That, that, ugh,” Stiles panted, still staring at Derek’s own kiss swollen mouth, “that day, when, with the juice.” Stiles released Derek’s hair and his hands flailed, “I s-s-s-spilled,” Stiles was writhing, “Oh God, God, God, Derek, please.”

Derek smirked, and his mouth was right above Stiles’ erection, fingers inching closer to the junction of Stiles' hip and thigh, “What did you spill, Stiles?”

Stiles tried bucking up to get at least a little bit of friction, but Derek just moved his head with it, staying just above the head of Stiles’ cock. “I spilled the juice. On you.”

Derek took pity on Stiles and blew on the tip, “Did you go snooping into my laundry, Stiles?”

Stiles nodded and whimpered, then began inching a hand toward his own erection but Derek grabbed it and shook his head. Stiles whined, “Yes, I snooped through your laundry. I was washing it and I noticed.” Stiles wiggled his hips, swaying his erection in front of Derek’s face, “I’m sorry, just please, please, please, Derek.”

Derek hummed and leaned in, stopping a bare centimeter from Stiles’ cock.

Stiles hissed as Derek blew at the tip again. “Not the kind of blowing I want, Derek.”

Derek clucked his tongue, “Pushy, pushy.”

Stiles wound his hands in Derek’s hair and bucked his hips toward Derek’s mouth. The head of his cock skittered over Derek’s lower lip, leaving a small trail of pre-cum glistening there.

Stiles groaned, long and loud when Derek’s tongue flicked out to lick it away, tip of his tongue brushing the head of Stiles’ cock lightly. Derek’s pale green eyes were dominated by the black of his pupil as he looked up at Stiles and took the head of Stiles’ cock between his lips and began sucking him down. Stiles groaned at the image of Derek’s head cradled between his thighs. He threw his head back and gave Derek a view of his long, lean torso spread out. 

Derek’s eyes fluttered shut and lost himself in the feel of Stiles’ cock moving in and out of his mouth. He lost himself in the rhythm of flicking and fluttering his tongue around Stiles’ cock. He lost himself in the gentle pulls and tugs that Stiles gave him when Derek moaned, or hummed, or moved his hand around the base of his cock in that certain way. Derek lost himself in the whimpers and curses that fell from Stiles’ mouth like prayers. 

“Derek,” Stiles said, voice cracking, “Derek,” he tugged on Derek’s hair, “I’m gonna, I can’t,” Stiles groaned as Derek flicked his tongue around the head, “Derek, I’m gonna—”

Derek hummed and removed his hand from the base of Stiles’ erection. Then he continued to suck Stiles down. Stiles let out a moan as Derek made it all the way to the base, lips tight, mouth hot. When Derek began humming and moaning around Stiles’ cock, however, Stiles let out a wail and came down Derek’s throat in thick ropes. Derek was still lapping and sucking at Stiles’ cock when Stiles pushed him off mumbling something about how sensitive it was. 

Then Stiles tugged Derek’s head back up and shoved his tongue down Derek’s throat. Stiles moaned at the taste of himself in Derek’s mouth and reach down toward Derek’s zipper. 

Derek let out a long moan as Stiles’ hand brushed the erection that was still trapped in Derek’s jeans. Stiles’ fingers fumbled and danced around the zipper, trying to get the thing down in order to get at Derek’s cock. His fingers were so uncoordinated, however, that by the time Stiles had gotten a hold of the zipper and his hand wrapped around the base Derek was cumming all over Stiles’ hand and his boxer briefs.Derek went boneless and slumped on top of Stiles. He looked up when he felt Stiles shifting and was just in time to see Stiles hold up his cum covered hand and lick a long line of it from his palm. Derek groaned, dug deep to find his last bit of energy and maneuvered the two of them so that Stiles was once again laying on Derek. 

The smaller man looked down and saw the pants that were unzipped and unbuttoned around Derek’s thighs, and clucked his tongue. “That won’t do. We both need to be naked.”

Then with an energy that Derek didn’t know how he had, Stiles reached down and pulled off Derek’s pants and boxer briefs with a flourish. 

“There.” Stiles said, smiling, “Now we match.” Then he returned to laying his head on the top of Derek’s chest and closed his eyes.

“I don’t mind, you know.” Stiles made a questioning humming sound and nuzzled against the light smattering of black hair on Derek’s chest. “That you looked through my laundry and found out I was going commando.” He ran a hand through Stiles’ hair, “I find it kind of endearing, really.”

Stiles snorted and muttered against Derek’s chest, “I’m glad you think so.” 

Derek smiled, kissed the top of Stiles’ head, and rubbed his nose against the sweat matted hair.

“Are you sniffing me?” 

Derek ignored his question and angled his head to look at Stiles, “What happened to the ‘no sexy times on this couch’ rule?”

Stiles flapped a hand absently in the air, he wasn’t always the most energetic and coherent after orgasms. “I’m a rule breaker. A rebel without a cause. I am an outlaw.”

“You broke a sacred roommate agreement.”

“Puh-lease.” Stiles snorted, “Scott and Allison totally had sex on this couch like three weeks ago.”

Derek froze, “Did I just achieve orgasm in the same place that Allison did?”

Stiles froze and looked at Derek, who was still staring at the couch horrified, “I just gave you a blowjob where Scott has recently been mostly if not all the way naked.”

They scrambled off the couch and grabbed their pants, “Let’s never talk about this again, shall we?”

“Agreed.” Derek nodded and the two headed up to Stiles’ room for round two. 

Later, when Derek was covered in hickies and Stiles had more stubble burn than he had ever thought would be possible, Stiles turned and asked Derek if he wanted to know the whole story. Start to finish. Including the Ten Year Plan. Derek nodded, looking warily at the man next to him. 

“Why?”

Stiles looked fondly at Derek and manhandled him into position, “You said you needed me. What I need is to tell you. I need to know that you know everything. I need to not feel like I’m keeping secrets.”

Derek nodded and let himself be manhandled into place. 

When Stiles was finally please with their positions, Derek was up against the wall, pillows supporting his lower back, with Stiles tucked against his side. One of Stiles’ arms was thrown around Derek’s waist, and underneath the sheets their bare legs were tangled together. It was, as Stiles had sighed when he had finally gotten the position right, perfect.

Stiles cleared his throat, “It all started when Lydia decided to make me her project. I was going to run for Student Council President, and I was going to win…”

**

“… or my name isn’t Lydia Martin.” Stiles had blinked and nodded along with whatever Lydia was saying. Because, contrary to popular belief, she was, in fact, a beautiful, wonderful goddess.

Lydia Martin was a goddess and Stiles was totally head over heels in love with her. There was nothing he could do, she had stolen his heart and he would follow her until the end of the universe. 

The first day of her preparation for the Student Council, however, dashed all those hopes and dreams. She was pushy and mean and she didn’t like to cuddle. Stiles _loved_ to cuddle. The love of his life had to love cuddles as much as he loved cuddles. And she scoffed at the idea of wearing Stiles’ clothes. Even when he had accidentally spilled Coke on her, she refused to wear one of his shirts. She chose instead to go home and change her entire outfit rather than wear one of his shirts. And that was only the first day, he had six others. 

By the end of the week Stiles had admitted to himself that while he did love Lydia, she was strong and independent, she was beautiful and hell on high heels. She was his mentor and she was a genius. She just wasn’t his. And he was okay with that. He had spent so long imagining what Lydia would be like that he had neglected to think about what would happen if she wasn’t like his fantasies at all. He loved Lydia, he just wasn’t _in_ love with her.

Stiles was passing out campaign tags with his unlikely group of friends when he saw _him._ The broody, slacker who was doing his homework in front of his English class. Stiles stopped in the middle of his sentence and just stared. 

“Who is that?” Stiles asked, gesturing wildly with his head.

“Who?” Lydia said, turning. When her eyes landed on the boy she smiled and said, “Oh, that’s Derek.”

“Oh.” Stiles fiddled with some tags that were in his hand. 

Lydia smiled, big and wide and threatening, “You know, you should go give him a tag.”

Stiles shook his head, “Oh, he looks really busy.”

Lydia snorted, “He’s just pretending to read it. He’s already finished his homework. I saw him doing it yesterday during study period.” 

Stiles gulped, “Nah, I’m good.”

Lydia’s eyes narrowed, she was way too perceptive for her own good. “Fine.” Then she turned to Scott, “Here Scott, give a campaign tag to that guy over there and tell him to vote for Stiles.”

Scott shrugged and headed over to the guy.

“Lydia.” Stiles hissed. 

“Shhh,” she turned to look at Stiles, “now, when he looks over here, say something funny and make me laugh.”

When they heard Scott yell, “That’s a Stiles!” 

Stiles turned to Lydia and promptly forgot everything funny he had ever heard.

Undeterred, Lydia began laughing at him uproariously. Stiles felt like he was going to puke.

**

“And that’s how it really happened.”

Derek smiled and laughed, “Lydia totally saw through my act, did she?”

Stiles snorted, “Of course she did. She’s an evil genius who will one day take over the world.”

Derek chuckled and the two fell into a companionable silence.

“Hey, Derek?”

“Yeah?”

“Did you maybe want to stay the night?” Stiles began fiddling with the fraying edge of his sheet, “We could order some pizza, watch a movie or something. Then come back to bed.”

“I’d like to see you try to kick me out.” Derek brushed his lips against Stiles’ forehead.

Stiles smiled and let out a relieved breath. 

“But do you think I could grab some stuff from my room?”

Stiles nodded, “But only if I get to come with you.”

“Wouldn’t have it any other way.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter will be up soonish. (Hopefully. Y'all know how bad I am at updating.)


	14. Derek and Stiles Scar Scott for Life and Story Time Continues (a.k.a. Naked Derek Pleases Stiles and Repels Scott)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There are more sexy times between Stiles and Derek. Stiles tells Derek what really happened at The Jungle that one night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so so so so so sorry that it has taken me this long to update! I've really been trying to do better, but I'm still shit at updating. I started college again and this year I'm super busy because I'm running a club, and taking more than a full class load, and I'm still working part time. (Also, I'm sorry if this chapter kind of sucks. I've just finished it at 1:30 a.m. and I'm exhausted.) (I also couldn't figure out where to end it. But no worries, I know exactly where we are going to end and we're almost there!)
> 
> Kudos, comment, and bookmark for more shower sex (although it's deceptively difficult to write.)

The two eventually clambered their way out of bed, tugging the sheet between themselves as they made their way to the shower.  ****

“Derek,” Stiles whined as he tugged the sheet further around his hips, “you’re gonna make me fall.”

Derek snorted and tugged the sheet harder, “I need more sheet.”

“No you don’t.”

“Yes I do,” Derek tugged the sheet and shuffled forward, “I have bigger hips.”

“You’re just a sheet hog.” Tug.

“Am not.” Tug.

“Are to.” Tug.

“Am not.” Tug.

“Are to.” Tug.

“Fine!” Derek snarled in the middle of the hallway, “Take the entire sheet! See if I give a damn!” Derek grabbed his section of the sheet and threw it at Stiles. Which, of course, meant that when Scott appeared in the hallway asking if everything was okay, he saw more of Derek than he ever needed to.

“Hey guys, is everything HOLY FUCKING SHIT WHY ARE YOU NAKED??!?!?!!?” Scott threw his hands over his face and turned to run away. He stumbled blindly, first into a wall, then another wall, into his door jamb and finally fell into his room slamming the door behind him.

Derek stood, frozen with Stiles next to him. Derek’s face was bright red. “Did that just happen?”

Derek stared at Stiles, “I’m never going to be able to look at Scott ever again.”

“I thought that was because of the blow job on the couch.”

There was a roar from Scott’s room and the door flew open, revealing an irritated Scott, “THAT WAS A SEXY TIME FREE, HOLY MOTHER OF GOD WHY ARE YOU STILL NAKED?!?!” Scott threw his hands back over his eyes and crashed back into his room.

Stiles began laughing, “I think naked Derek is the biggest Scott deterrent I’ve ever seen.” He considered it for a moment, “Second biggest Scott deterrent.”

“What’s the biggest?”

“Scott’s mom in a large Beacon Hills PD shirt and my dad in boxers. Making breakfast. And giggling.”

Derek’s eyebrows flew up, “Go Sheriff.”

Scott’s door flew open, “Excuse me? My mother is more than just, WHY IS DEREK’S PENIS STILL OUT IN THE OPEN?” His door promptly slammed again.

“Why does he keep doing that?” 

Stiles shrugged, “To the shower?” 

“Is the shower sexy time free?”

Stiles snorted, “Of course not.” Then his smiled slyly, “Even if it was, you and I both know how badly we follow sexy time free rules.” 

Derek flushed, “I take it we can’t tell Scott about the—”

“Oh for God’s sake,” came Scott from inside his room, “just go fuck in the shower and stop talking!”

Stiles dropped what he held of the sheet, “You heard Scotty, let’s go fuck in the shower.”

“So we’re not telling him how we fucked against his door?”

“YOU WHAT?” Scott roared and threw open his door, “THAT IS SO, WHY ARE YOU BOTH NAKED? OH GOD, MY EYES!” 

Derek smirked and pulled a bewildered Stiles into the bathroom. He slammed the door, threw the lock and hoisted Stiles onto the bathroom counter. 

Stiles’ legs were around Derek’s waist and their tongues were shoved down each other’s throats quickly. Stiles’ fingers were dragging down Derek’s back and Derek’s fingers were digging into Stiles’ hips. It was only once Derek moaned and moved to shift to the shower that Stiles brought his hands up to Derek’s shoulders and gave him a little push. 

“Hold up, hold up.” Stiles pulled back, lips swollen and cheeks flushed. “We didn’t fuck against Scott’s door.”

Derek smirked and stroked at Stiles’ lower back causing the other man to shiver, “I know.” 

Stiles stared at Derek for a moment, head cocked. Then his mouth spread into a wide smile, “You’re so evil.” Stiles dragged his hands through Derek’s hair before pulling him forward. “I love it.” Stiles murmured against Derek’s lips. 

This time it was Derek who leaned back from the kiss, “Is that the only reason you pulled away?”

Stiles nodded.

“Good. I really wanna blow you in the shower.”

Stile groaned, “But what if I wanna blow you?”

Derek’s eyes darkened, “I think that could be arranged.”

Stiles beamed, “Really? I thought you preferred to give than receive.”

Derek flushed, “You remember that?”

Stiles laughed, “Of course I remember that! I jerked off to the image of you blowing me for weeks!”

Derek chuckled and leaned in to press more kisses to Stiles’ lips. 

Stiles pushed at Derek’s shoulders and Derek groaned, “But seriously, if you don’t want me to go down on you, it’s okay.” Stiles chewed nervously on his lips.

Derek’s thumb smoothed across Stiles’ bottom lip, “I want what you want.” At Stiles’ doubtful look Derek sighed, “Seriously Stiles.” He leaned in, pressed their foreheads together, and gave him a peck on the lips, “I would love it if you blew me.”

Stiles smiled and wrapped his arms around Derek’s neck and wrapped his legs around Derek’s waist, “Well, if you insist.” Then he pointed over Derek’s shoulder, “To the shower!” 

Derek laughed and rolled his eyes at his crazy boyfriend before carrying him into the shower.

With the shower curtain closed and the water turned to hot, Derek gestured to the shower, “Where do you want me?”

Stiles’ pupils dilated more, “There.” He shoved Derek by the shoulders and Derek crashed into the far wall of the shower. Derek was just barely close enough to the spray and only some few sparse droplets hit his chest, sliding down his body. 

Stiles stood squarely under the spray of water staring at Derek’s tan body contrasted against the white tile. “God, you’re beautiful.”

Derek smiled, “I’m glad you think so.” He gestured to where his cock was straining for attention, “Now, if you could continue our shower that would be great.”

Stiles slid to his knees, “Demanding, aren’t you?” Stiles positioned himself right at the tip of Derek’s cock, reminiscent of Derek’s position earlier. “You know what they say about payback, right?” He blew on the tip and watched at Derek’s eyes fluttered closed, “It’s a bitch.” Then he leaned forward and wrapped his mouth around the tip.

Stiles’ hands moved to rest on Derek’s lower abs, feeling the muscles twitch and flex as he moved his mouth this way and that. But as he continued, Stiles moved his hands around Derek’s body, fingers skating down Derek’s thighs, hands cupping Derek’s balls, then moving to clamp onto Derek’s hips, thumbs just below the ridges of the v of his hips. Stiles’ mouth never stayed in one place too long, either. His tongue fluttered and his mouth would pop off Derek’s cock so that Stiles could lick along the length and go back to sucking him down. His tongue flicked at the slit, traced veins, danced along the full length of Derek’s cock, before the hot suction of his mouth returned. 

Derek, for the most past, was doing what he could to keep from thrusting down Stiles’ throat. Derek was moaning and groaning, fingers digging themselves into Stiles’ hair, not pushing or pulling Stiles’ mouth onto his cock but simply reveling in the soft, thick mass. Derek had his head thrown back against the white tile, shoulders pressed against the wall, muscles flexing and moving as he kept himself from furiously thrusting into Stiles’ mouth. As much as Derek wanted to shut his eyes in pleasure, he couldn’t peel his eyes away from the sight of Stiles’ dark head nestled between his thighs. He stared at the other man, watching as his cock went in and out of Stiles’ swollen mouth. 

From his position on the bottom of the bathtub and shower combo, Stiles was under the spray of water. Stiles had his eyes closed against the water that was pouring down his head. But when Derek began tugging furiously at Stiles’ hair and groaning out, “Stiles, I’m gonna, I’m almost,” Stiles smiled around the cock in his mouth, opened his eyes, and stared up at Derek, meeting dilated pale green eyes with light brown dominated by pupil, and took Derek’s cock all the way down his throat.

Derek shouted out Stiles’ name over and over again, his voice echoing through the bathroom, and came down Stiles’ throat. Derek slumped against the shower wall and let the water pour over him for a moment. It was only when he heard little moans that his eyes snapped open to see Stiles still on his knees jerking himself off. 

Derek growled and sank down to his knees. With them both on the floor of the shower, Derek batted Stiles’ hands away from his erection and plastered himself against Stiles. Derek caught Stiles’ mouth in a harsh open mouthed kiss and wrapped his hand around Stiles’ hard cock. They broke apart, breaths panting in underneath the still falling spray of water. Stiles moaned and Derek leaned in and pressed another open mouth kiss to Stiles’ swollen lips. Derek’s tongue darted into Stiles’ mouth and he groaned at the taste of himself. The two were intertwined at the bottom of the shower, water pelting down on them, mouths fused together, not kissing just exchanging breaths and moans.

Derek’s hand pumped Stiles’ cock and his other hand went up to flick and twist at Stiles’ kiss swollen nipples. Stiles panted and moaned into Derek’s mouth, eyes squeezed shut as his hips pumped into Derek’s fist. Stiles’ eyes popped open, he ripped his mouth from Derek’s, and screamed Derek’s name as his body convulsed and he came all over Derek’s hand and abs. 

Stiles collapsed against the wall and Derek followed him for a moment, head tucked against the crook of Stiles’ neck, and let the water from the shower wash away Stiles’ cum. They pressed their mouths together in a messy kiss, their noses knocked, teeth clashed, and their legs were splayed toward one end of the tub and their arms were wrapped around each other, fingers clutching at wet skin. They caught their breath for a moment, then looked at each other, smiles tired. It was only when the water began to get cold that Derek reached over and turned the water off. Derek stood first, then offered his hand to Stiles. Stiles smiled gratefully and let himself be manhandled out of the shower. 

Stiles was bent over, head buried in a towel, rubbing furiously as his hair when he looked at Derek and said, “Looks like you’re equally enthusiastic about giving _and_ receiving.”

Derek smiled and said fondly, “Nah, it’s just you.” Then pressed a quick kiss to Stiles’ forehead. 

Stiles smiled and rubbed a hand through Derek’s still damp hair. “I’m glad.” 

Derek winked and wrapped his towel around his waist, “Let’s go back to your room and get dressed.”

Stiles smiled and wrapped his own towel around his waist, “If we’re lucky we can scar Scott even more before we get dressed.”

Derek rolled his eyes, “I knew you were evil, but I didn’t know you were _this_ evil.”

Stiles gasped and clutched at his heart, “Derek! That hurts!”

Derek rolled his eyes and pressed a kiss to Stiles’ forehead, “Bullshit. You’re proud of it.”

Stiles flushed and smirked, “Oh shut up.”

Derek reached past Stiles’ body to grab the doorknob. He sighed at Stiles and pushed the door open. “Let’s go get me a change of clothes and then we can scar Scott as much as you want.”

Stiles checked to make sure his towel was secure then double fisted the air. He pressed a sloppy kiss to Derek’s cheek and sauntered out of the steamy bathroom, “Please remind me how I got a guy like you.”

Derek snorted, “Well, you stole my hat and refused to return it. So…that might’ve been it.”

Stiles waved Derek off, “Technicalities, technicalities.”

Derek smirked and the two made their way back to Stiles’ room. 

Much to Stiles’ disappointment, they did not, in fact, run into Scott on their way to Stiles’ room. His door stayed firmly closed, even when Stiles shouted and hollered for him. 

Scott just turned on heavy metal and let Stiles’ voice be drowned out. 

Stiles frowned when Derek pulled his pants on again. “It’s blasphemous to cover your body in clothing.”

Derek rolled his eyes and grabbed his shirt. 

Stiles shouted and grabbed the shirt from Derek’s hands, “No! You’re not allowed to wear shirts anymore!” He scampered to the other side of the room, and shook the shirt in front of himself.

Derek raised an eyebrow, “I don’t think other people feel that way.” He moved in Stiles' direction, but Stiles shifted further away. Derek rolled his eyes and rushed forward.

Stiles shrieked in amusement and tried to dodge the arms but ended up crashing against his wall, Derek's arms boxing him in.

Derek was laughing at Stiles' flushed face. He grinned and leaned in toward Stiles' ear, "Pinned ya." 

Stiles let out a huffed laugh and ran his fingers through the short hairs at the base of Derek's neck. Derek relaxed into Stiles' body; his forearms moved to brace against the wall, not holding him above Stiles' body but merely holding himself up. Derek tucked his face against Stiles' neck. 

Stiles moved one hand up to scratch at Derek's scalp. Derek let out a sigh and arched his head up into Stiles' hand. Stiles' other hand moved down to rub soothing circles into Derek's skin. 

He made his way slowly down Derek’s body. When he had reached Derek’s mid-back, Derek shifted his head to stare at Stiles.

“Where you going there, Stiles?” Derek’s gaze was sleepy and his hair was mussed from Stiles’ fingers. 

Stiles chuckled and ran his hand down Derek’s abs, “Your abs, duh. I mean, there are ridiculously perfect.” Stiles smiled and his eyes twinkled, “I mean, your abs are positively,” he dropped to his knees, “absolutely,” he leaned in toward Derek’s abs, “100% lick-able.” Then his tongue darted forward and traced up the small line of hair leading up from Derek’s waistband. 

Derek groaned, levered himself away from the wall and grabbed Stiles by the shoulders, “No Stiles. We just got done having sex. We have to get stuff from my room. Remember?”

Stiles grumbled, “Yeah, yeah, yeah.” His head thunked back against the wall. 

Derek reached down for his shirt, still clutched in Stiles’ hand. Stiles promptly shifted the shirt away from Derek’s reaching hand. “C’mon Stiles. Give me my shirt.”

Stiles sniffed and turned away from Derek, “No.” He scrambled away from where he was kneeling before Derek’s calves. 

Derek huffed and turned to where Stiles was stumbling up from his knees, “Stiles. Give me my shirt.” 

Stiles stared at Derek, “Make me.” Then, fully mobile and on his feet, opened the door and ran out into the hallway.

“Stiles!” Derek yelled, “Come back!” He ran out after a cackling Stiles.

Derek finally caught Stiles by the waist at the bottom of the stairs because Stiles had stumbled jumping off the last couple of stairs.

“No fair,” Stiles whined as Derek pulled at the shirt in Stiles’ hands, “it’s not my fault that our stairs are faulty.”

Derek clucked his tongue, “Stop blaming the stairs for your clumsiness.” He pressed a dry, soft kiss against the nape of Stiles’ neck. He released Stiles’ waist and pulled his shirt over his head.

Stiles pointed his index finger to the sky, “Never!” then he proceeded to grab Derek by the wrist and drag him out the back door toward Derek’s dorm building.

“So,” Derek said, trailing slightly behind Stiles, “are you ever gonna finish telling me the rest of your non-edited stories?”

Stiles slowed his walk, “Uh, yeah. Which one was I on?”

“The Danny and the Jungle one.”

“Oh yeah. Although, I think I told you that one like completely truthfully. But, here we go anyway.”

**

“Hey, Danny!”

Danny glanced up form his chemistry book and worksheet, “Yeah, Stiles?”

“Am I attractive to gay guys?”

Derek looked pointedly at Derek then back at Stiles, “Gay guys or just guys in general?”

Stiles flushed, “Like, in your opinion, as a guy who finds other guys sexually appealing, am I sexually appealing?”

“To gay guys or just guys in general or just one guy in particular?”

“To just the general population of guys at this school who may or may not like other guys in a sexually appealing kind of way.”

“Stiles, I can’t speak for Derek.”

Stiles flushed and sputtered, “That wasn’t what I was asking you!!!!”

Danny smiled and patted Stiles on the back, “Sure you weren’t Stiles. Sure you weren’t.”

**

Derek laughed and grabbed Stiles’ hand, “Just to let you know, yes. You are, in fact, sexually appealing to me.”

Stiles snorted, “Yeah, I hadn’t guessed what with the earlier rounds of really intense sex earlier.” Despite his sarcastic tone, however, Stiles flushed and smiled. 

They arrived at the main door of Derek’s dorm building, “Let me key us in.” The door beeped and unlocked and the two slipped inside. They slowly made their way up the stairwell, hands keeping them connected while Stiles told his story the whole way up.

**

“Derek does not think I’m hot, Scott.” Stiles shook his head and stared morosely at his Jack ’n Coke without the Jack

“Dude, you don’t see the way he looks at you.” Scott shuddered as if imagining Derek’s heated looks.

“He doesn’t look at me!” Stiles poked at Scott’s chest, causing some of his Jack ’n Coke without the Jack to splash onto Scott’s black shirt.  

“That’s what you think.” Scott raised an eyebrow. When had he learned how to do that, Stiles groaned, this was going to make Scott so much harder to deal with.

“Seriously, man. Drop it.” Stiles again poked Scott’s chest. 

“No! We still have time for The Plan!”Scott exclaimed and threw his hands into the air. 

“Scott, buddy, The Plan was stupid.” Stiles patted Scott’s shoulder with the hand that was not holding his Jack ’n Coke without the Jack. 

Scott looked affronted, “It was NOT stupid,” he clasped his hand over his heart with one hand, with the other hand he patted Stiles on his back, “We still have to go through Phase 1! We have time!”

“Hey Stiles.”

Stiles turned around to see Danny standing there in a black mesh top, covered in glitter.

“Oh, hey Danny.” Stiles bobbed his head to the techno music a little bit, “How’s life treating you?”

Danny rubbed at the back of his neck, “Good. How’s it treating you?”

“Just fine.”

The two stood there awkwardly with Scott staring at them from just slightly behind Stiles’ shoulder. 

Scott elbowed at Stiles’s lower back and hissed, “Say something.”

Before Stiles could follow Scott’s advice, Danny leaned forward and showed his dimples, “So, uh, did you want to dance?”

Stiles stared at Danny, “What?”

 

**

“Derek!” came a shriek from just down the hall.  

Derek and Stiles startled and looked up to see Jennifer, the freshman stalker, running toward them.

“OH MY GOD I haven’t seen you all weekend!” She fluttered her hand, “I was SO worried.” She leaned in and tried to touch his bicep with a fluttering hand. 

Derek shrugged and moved his arm away from her so that her hand missed his skin; Stiles snorted. “I had an emergency family thing. Sorry ‘bout that.”

Jennifer glared at Stiles and hip checked him away from Derek, “It’s no problem, really.” She flipped her hair over her shoulder, and angled her body closer to Derek. “Is everything okay back home?”

Derek clenched his lips together to form a flat line, “yup, everything is just fine.”

Jennifer leaned forward and, though he attempted to dodge, touched Derek’s shoulder, “I’m so glad to hear that.” She leaned in, “So, I was wondering if you wanted to go out on a date sometime.”

Behind Jennifer, Stiles’ eyes widened as he watched Derek stutter through a rejection. “Um, I’m your R.A. and that’s really not recommended.” Stiles’ eyebrows flew up.

Jennifer leaned in even closer, “But it’s not forbidden, right?”

Derek winced, “Well, technically not, but—”

Jennifer’s grin widened, “Buuut—”

Derek gestured in Stiles’ direction feebly. 

Stiles rolled his eyes at his boyfriend’s complete inability to sometimes socially interact with people.  Then he took pity on both his boyfriend and the poor freshman girl who just could not take a hint. He squeezed in front of Derek, forcing Jennifer’s hand away from Derek’s bicep and held out his hand in an offer of a handshake, “Hey, I’m Stiles. Derek’s boyfriend.”

Jennifer’s eyes widened and she shifted backward, completely ignoring his offer of a handshake, “Boyfriend?”

“Mhmm.” Stiles dropped his hand and shifted his head so that the hickies at the base of his neck were clearly visible, “Yup. Boyfriend. As in dating, long-term, exclusive, boyfriend.”

Jennifer’s eyebrows furrowed and she pursed her lips, “Are you sure? I mean Derek—”

Stiles raised an eyebrow, “I’m Derek’s boyfriend and he’s my boyfriend. We are each other’s boyfriend. End of story.”

At Jennifer’s continued furrowed eyebrows and disbelieving look at his body, Stiles took action.

He huffed, grabbed the front of Derek’s shirt in two fistfuls of fabric, and pressed their mouths together forcefully. Derek immediately responded, his lips pushing back against Stiles’ and hands clutching at Stiles’ waist. Stiles groaned as Derek licked into his mouth. Derek pushed closer and Stiles’ hands migrated up to clutch at Derek’s neck. There was a faint squeak but they ignored it. 

Eventually, Derek broke the kiss and turned to look at the girl who was still standing off to the side. “I’m sorry, we got a little carried away.”

Jennifer squeaked, “No, it’s, uh, all right. I’m just, uh, gonna go. Uh, back to my room.”

Stiles waved after her, his fingers wiggling in a condescending wave, his smile wide and triumphant, “Okay then! Bye! See you around, Jennifer!”

Derek waved dazedly, hand flopping side to side, at Jennifer’s back, “Bye Jennifer.”  Derek pulled Stiles to his bedroom and unlocked the door.

“Anyway, as I was saying, Danny came up to ask me to dance, and I said—”

“Why did she ask me out?” Derek pushed open his door and pulled Stiles in after him.

Stiles frowned, “Ummm, because you’re hot?”

Derek frowned, “Do you think I’m leading on my residents? What if more of them try to ask me out? Am I a horrible R.A.?” Derek sat down on his bed, eyes wide. “Do I have to wear around a shirt that says, ‘I’m dating Stiles Stilinski. Please don’t ask me out. I will have to say no and then it will be embarrassing for everyone involved.’?”

Stiles snorted and sat down next to Derek, “Der, you do not need a shirt. Although, if you get one, can you please get enough so that you can wear one everyday all the time. In fact, I don’t think you’ll ever need another shirt ever again.”

Derek chuckled and rested his forehead on Stiles’ shoulder, “How do always you do that?”

Stiles hmmed and looked down at Derek’s hair and ran a hand over it, “Do what?”

“Make me feel better. No matter what?”

His breath hitched, “I guess it’s just a talent?”

“It’s a good talent.” Derek paused and the two sat in silence for a few moments. “So what did you say to Danny?” Derek said, starting the conversation from where Stiles had last left it.

“And I said…”

 

** 

“What?”

“Do you want to dance with me?” Danny repeated and flushed, “My ex is right over there and I was wondering if you could help me make him a little jealous?”

Stiles’ mouth dropped open, “I really don’t think I’m the one who is going to make him jealous.” His hand fluttered through the air, gesturing to his entire body.

“Oh,” Danny stared down at his feet, “sure. I totally understand.” He rubbed the back of his neck, “I’ll, errr, see you around, Stiles.”

Once Danny had gotten far enough out of earshot, Scott smacked Stiles on the back of the head. “You dummy! He was asking you to dance because he wanted to dance with you!”

Stiles’ eyes widened, “He was?”

Scott slapped his hand over his eyes and forehead, “Dude, he was totally hitting on you!”

Stiles’ arms flailed, “Danny isn’t sexually attracted to me!”

Scott shook his head fondly at his best friend, “Yes. Yes, he is.”

Stiles scoffed, “Come on, when has Danny ever hit on me at school?”

Scott gestured at Stiles’ skinny jeans, “When have you ever worn those pants to school?”

Stiles looked down at his jeans which were, admittedly, extremely tight. “Um, never.”

“Exactly.” Scott smacked Stiles’ shoulder with the back of his hand, “Plus you’re always so busy staring at Derek you don’t even notice that Erica, Danny, and Heather are all staring at you!”

Stiles shook his head at the notion that so many people could be lusting after his hot bod, “They are not!”

Scott rolled his eyes, “Dude, they so are.” He patted Stiles on the shoulder and said, “You may think I’m super oblivious to everything except Allison, but I’m really not.”

Stiles crossed his arms across and shook his head even more obstinately, “I don’t believe you.”

“Fine.” Scott exclaimed, throwing his arms up into the air, “Don’t believe me. Miss out on this chance to practice dancing and grinding and making out and just general sexy behavior before you try in out on Derek.” 

Stiles paused in the middle of taking a drink from his Jack ’n Coke without the Jack. “Fine. I will.” And continued drinking nonchalantly. 

Scott sighed, “You know, it’s probably better that you turned him down.”

“What?” Stiles’ head whipped up and he stared at his best friend. 

Scott shook his head, “I mean, you would’ve probably embarrassed yourself.”

“Excuse me?” Stiles dropped his glass on the bar with a _plunk._

Scott finally met his best friend’s indignant gaze, “You probably would have started dancing and fallen over.” Scott patted Stiles on the back, “Good job buddy. You dodged a bullet there.”

Stiles’ eyes narrowed, “Fine. I’ll go over there and ask Danny to dance.” The two looked up to where Danny had started dancing with another guy.

“Oh. Looks like you’ve lost your chance.” Scott shook his head, then he noticed Derek standing with Boyd and Erica. “Stiles, you can redeem yourself.”

“How?” Stiles looked morosely into the last bits of Coke in his glass.

“Derek is standing over there,” Scott gestured with a nonchalant wave in Derek’s direction, “and he hasn’t danced with anyone tonight.”

 

** 

Derek held his hand up to stop Stiles, “Whoa, whoa, whoa, you saw me there?”

Stiles nodded. “You weren’t there long, but we saw you while you were there.”

Derek flushed, “Boyd and Erica wanted me to ask you to dance but I kept chickening out.”

Stiles laughed and rubbed his hand across the back of his neck. “Funny you should say that…”

 

**

“I dare you.”

“You what?”

“I. Dare. You.” Scott emphasized each word with a poke to Stiles’ chest. 

Stiles hovered between the decision and worried his lip with his front teeth, “I don’t know, Scott.”

“I double dog dare you. Go ask Derek to dance and I will eat four jars of pickles in one sitting. But, if you chicken out and dance with Danny, you have to sing a Taylor Swift song of my choosing and post it on the internet.”

Stiles continued to chew at his lip, “Scott, I don’t think—”

“Chicken.”

“What.”

“Chick-en.” Scott poked at Stiles’ chest with an index finger. “You’re a chicken.” Scott pantomimed chicken wings and began to cluck.

“I am not a chicken.” Stiles crossed his arms and frowned, his brows furrowing. 

Scott stopped his rendition of the chicken dance and propped his hands on his hips, “Then go ask Derek to dance.”

 

**

“Stiles,” Derek said, cocking his head in confusion, “you didn’t ask me to dance.” 

Stiles sighed, “I know.”

Derek smiled, “I would’ve said yes.”

Stiles sighed again, “I know.”

“Why didn’t you ask me to dance?” Derek nudged Stiles’ shoulder with his own. 

“Because I chickened out.”

“So, that’s why that video exists.” Derek grinned triumphantly. 

“Yeah. I lost the best with Scott.”

 

**

Stiles took a deep, steadying breath and shook his hands out in an attempt to psych himself up. “You can do this, Stilinski.” 

He began making his way to Derek then paused, and turned back to Scott. “No. If I fail in my mission, Scott will make me sing the most embarrassing song he can find. Then where will we be? Even more embarrassed.” He turned back around and headed toward Derek. 

“But,” he stopped walking and turned back toward Scott, “if Derek says no and laughs at me, it will be even more humiliating. Plus, his friends will all know.”

Stiles groaned, ran his hands over his face and resigned himself to embarrassment either way. He let out a huff of air, clenched his fists together, and headed toward Derek. He wasn’t too far away when he was bumped into by a large body. Stiles looked up to see Danny, slightly tipsy, in all his black mesh and glitter glory.

“Hey, Danny.”

“Shtiles!” Danny threw his arms around Stiles’ shoulders, “How’re you? Did ya fin’ Derek and kiss ‘im yet?”

Stiles felt his cheeks flush a light pink, “Um, that’s a no.”

Danny nodded sharply and wavered slightly with the sharp  movement, “Good.”

Stiles cocked his head, “Good?”

“Ya.” Danny nodded and wavered again,  “‘Cause you’re really, really hot ‘n I really, really wanna dancshe with you. Li’e, it’ll def’itely make my ex jealoush but li’e you’re alsho really cute.”

Stiles flushed, “Well, uh, thank you.”

Danny bopped him on the nose, “You’re wel’ome.” Danny leaned in and Stiles could smell the alcohol on his breath, “Are you shure you don’ wanna dancshe?” Danny poked at Stiles’ side, “It’ll be fun.”

Stiles sighed and looked to where Derek was frowning up a storm, “Yeah sure,” Stiles looked away from Derek, “why not?”

Then the two of them set out on a quest to make Danny’s ex jealous.

 

**

“And it worked.” Stiles clapped his hands together, “Danny made his ex jealous and I practiced making out and dancing at the same time. I’m like practically a pro at it now. It was really a win-win scenario.”

“What do you mean, win-win?” Derek frowned at his boyfriend, “I didn’t get to win? You danced with someone else.”

“Yeah,” Stiles said, standing and smiling, “but now I only dance with you.” Stiles positioned himself on Derek’s lap, knees around the other man’s hips, “And I’m better at it now, than when I was at seventeen going on eighteen.” He swiveled his hips around Derek’s lap and Derek’s hands went up to clasp at Stiles’ hips. 

“Stiles,” Derek said, clenching his jaw, “this is not fair.”

“Nonsense, Derek,” said Stiles, grinning mischievously, and wrapped his arms around Derek’s neck, “I think it’s very,” Stiles pecked Derek on the lips, “very,” Stiles dipped his hands beneath the neck of Derek’s shirt and swiveled his hips, grinding his pelvis into Derek’s lap, “very fair.” Stiles whispered the final words against Derek’s ear, his teeth catching on the lobe. Derek leaned back, but kept Stiles where he was, determined to get a kiss from Stiles’ lips.

Their lips met, and almost immediately Stiles groaned and pushed against Derek’s lips. Derek chuckled and nipped at Stiles’ lips, coaxing them apart to allow Derek’s tongue to slip in neatly. Stiles ground his rapidly growing erection into Derek’s hardening cock. Derek gasped and bucked his hips upwards against Stiles’. Stiles grinned and ground down harder. Derek’s hands went to push up Stiles’ shirt, desperate to feel Stiles’ smooth torso under his hands. Stiles’ shirt had just been rucked up under his arms when there was a pounding at the door.

The person at the door shouted between each loud thump, “Derek! DEREK! DEREK!!!!!!” 

Stiles broke the kiss and leaned back, out of breath, and flushed pink. “Um, Derek, why is that girl Jennifer pounding on your door?”

“You know, I’m not sure.” Derek stared at Stiles’ red lips and stroked his hands up Stiles’ spine. Stiles shivered with the sensation. Derek smiled at the reaction, “But I’m not sure I give a fuck right now.” 

Stiles smiled mischievously and leaned in to press his lips against Derek’s, “Good.”

“Derek! DEREK! DERRRREKKKKK!!!!!!” There were more heavy thumps to accompany Jennifer’s yells.

Derek sighed and pushed Stiles off his lap, leaving him sprawled across the bedsheets, “I should answer her. It might be important.”

Stiles whimpered and grumbled, “Stupid fucking freshman. Stupid fucking horrible timing. Stupid fucking responsible adult behavior.”  He stared at his clothed erection, “Sorry, buddy. But hopefully she’ll be gone soon and we can start doing the fun stuff again soon.”

Derek chuckled and took a deep breath, calming his heart rate and libido before opening his door. “Can I help you?”

Jennifer stood, arms crossed, foot tapping. She did not speak.

“Uhhhh, Jennifer?” Derek cocked his head at her. “Was there a reason you knocked on my door?” 

Jennifer gave a stilted nod.

“Well, what was it?” Derek opened the door further. 

Jennifer’s gaze landed on Stiles, sprawled on the bed, shirt rucked up under his armpits, flushed red with swollen lips. She let out an angered cry and drew back her right hand. 

With a resounding WHACK, Jennifer’s hand flew forward and cracked against Derek’s cheek. “That,” said Jennifer, “is for leading me on.” With that, Jennifer huffed and whirled around to return to her room.

Derek retreated to the bed and sat beside Stiles. Stiles leaned over and touched the reddening spot on Derek’s cheek lightly, “So, uh, that was weird.”

Derek sighed, “Maybe she’ll stop following me around now.”

Stiles nodded. They sat in silence for a few moments. Stiles turned and repositioned himself on his boydfriend’s lap, knees around Derek’s thighs and forearms resting lightly on Derek’s shoulders, “We could go back to my house, if you want. No one waiting to slap you there.”

Derek grunted, “Not to mention we can continue story time wrapped up in your sheets.”

Stiles hummed, “I’d like that. I’d like that a lot.” Stiles hopped up from where he was seated, pulled his shirt back down his torso and bounded over to the door. He hovered by the door jamb expectantly.

Derek shook his head, “I still have to grab my stuff, dork.”

Stiles pouted and crossed his arms over his chest. “I still think you should walk around the house naked.”

Derek snorted and rolled his eyes, “I highly doubt Scott would like that.”

“Why are you all about pleasing Scott? You should be all about pleasing me. I _am_ the one giving you nookie.”

Derek shook his head and continued packing some clothing to take over to Stiles’ house. “If you would help me out over here, everything would be done faster.” Stiles sniffed and looked away from where Derek was packing things into a duffel. “If it gets done faster we’ll be over at your house sooner.” Stiles made a questioning sound in his throat but tilted his head further away from Derek. Derek smirked and began making his way to the door jamb, “And the sooner we get done here, the sooner we can get wrapped back up in your sheets.” 

A red flush ran up Stiles’ neck and bloomed onto his cheeks; still he refused to look at Derek. Derek leaned into Stiles’ chest, “The sooner we can get wrapped up in your sheets, the sooner we can start back up where Jennifer interrupted us.” Stiles’ face was still turned away from Derek’s gaze, but his neck was craning toward Derek. Derek placed his hands on Stiles’ hips and let his thumbs go up and under Stiles’ shirt. “I can pull your shirt off and trace every single mark I left on you last night. Then I can make new ones.” Stiles let out a low groan and pushed at Derek’s shoulders. Derek let out a low chuckle and fell back, putting distance between them.

“You,” said Stiles, turning and grabbing anything that was in reach, “are an evil, evil man.” He walked over and dumped an armload of random items into Derek’s duffel. 

He walked over to another corner of the room and pulled more of Derek’s random knick-knacks from the bookshelf and nightstand. One again, Stiles dumped the armload onto Derek’s duffel. Noticing that Derek was not helping him, he huffed and turned, hands on his hips, “Well, are you going to help?”

Derek shook his head and made his way to his boyfriend and duffel. Once there he looked at the duffel, sitting at the edge of the bed, covered in a mound of his things. “Stiles, I don’t think I’ll need to bring a lamp to your house.” Derek paused and reach down to grab one of the items, “Or a picture of Peter and Cora.” He grabbed another one, “Or a hula dancing figurine.” 

Stiles threw his arms up in the air, “You ask me to help and when I do, you reject all of my suggestions.” 

Derek huffed out a laugh and pointed to his computer chair, “Sit.” He ordered fondly, “I’ll be done soon.” 

Stiles nodded and plopped himself down in the chair, watching silently as Derek grabbed a pair of boxer briefs, jeans, and a henley. He paused, then grabbed a second change of clothes. He sighed and grabbed his laptop, his charger, and a book for his English course. He considered what work he still had to do and grabbed another book from his bookshelf. He opened his mouth to tell Stiles he was ready to go, but Stiles stopped him.

“Dude,” he said, walking over to Derek’s drawers and pulling out two pairs of socks, “it’s almost like you don’t know how to pack for a slumber party.”

Derek raised an eyebrow, “I don’t think there’ll be much slumbering happening, Stiles.”

Stiles threw the socks into Derek’s duffel from where he stood and winked, “It’s almost the same concept.”

Derek laughed and reached to pull his boyfriend into a light kiss. Stiles pulled the duffel’s strap onto his shoulder and Derek pulled his backpack onto his shoulders. The two walked out of Derek’s room, hand in hand, and made their way back to Stiles’ house. 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so I've finished rewrites for the end of this chapter. Which means that the next chapter is now in the works. Which means this is almost finished. 
> 
> Anywho, just letting you guys know that I'm still alive, but I am working on the final(ish) stretch of chapters. I have a little bit more free time this semester and I'm taking time every week to work on creative writing. I cannot thank you guys enough for still reading, kudosing, and commenting.
> 
> Also, children. We're assuming they've had the safe sex/I'm clean talk. Thus the continued neglect for condoms. Otherwise, they'd definitely be wrapping it before they were tapping it.


End file.
